#sometimes love is reading all the notes for your friend's ocs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year

Text

Remember You Even When I Don't (5)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 5.4K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, eventual smut

Notes: The response for this continues to blow me away. Thank you all so much! Hearing your thoughts about these two makes me so happy and is so encouraging to write a little bit faster. Please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open! I love to talk about these two :)

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed! All of the thanks to her and @mak-32 for being the best cheerleaders and friends I could ask for!

Buckle in, folks!

-----

He spends that first night tossing and turning, fighting to find sleep. It’s hard for him to be down the hall, knowing you were so close, yet so far out of his reach. In only a few days, he had gotten used to falling asleep and waking up with you in the chair beside his bed. The next morning, you somehow look more tired now than you had the whole time he was in the hospital, and he was sure that he was the same.

Being here was different than he anticipated. Part of him expected to walk into this house and have every memory he’d lost rush back to him in technicolor. He was disappointed when that didn’t happen, and he thinks that even if you won’t say it, you are, too.

He didn’t remember anything, but his instincts were there. He knew which drawer held the utensils and which cabinet housed plates and bowls and which one had coffee cups. He knew where the two of you kept Florry’s food and that her treats were kept in one of the drawers in the coffee table. It was muscle memory, he supposed.

But his brain tickled sometimes, like it wanted to remember something but couldn’t. He often felt that frustrating sensation of something being right there on the tip of his tongue, but he’s unable to produce exactly what it is.

He dreams every night. His subconscious creates scenes of flying and crashing ocean waves, of snow covered streets and twinkle lights. He swears your laughter echoes in his ears when he rouses to consciousness.

He doesn’t know if they’re memories, or if they’re figments brought on by the yearning he feels toward you the longer he’s around you. Either way, they’re never quite clear enough for him to even ask you about them. But he sneaks into your office one night and swipes a pen and a pad of sticky notes and takes to writing down all the details he can recall when he wakes up.

Over the first few days of being home, the two of you get into a tentative routine. You somehow wake before he does, and there’s coffee waiting for him when he makes his way downstairs. You’re not much of a breakfast person, but you make him eggs and bacon and toast or whatever he’s in the mood for, even if he insists you don’t have to. You take him to his follow up appointments or evaluations, which takes up his time until the early afternoon. The two of you have taken to grabbing lunch while you’re out everyday, before going back to the home you share and making yourselves busy until dinner.

He finds himself wanting to touch you more. There were no more forehead kisses, but his knee will knock against yours sometimes when the two of you are eating. He always holds the door open for you whenever you two are out, and sometimes you’ll brush against him just so when you’re passing by. When the two of you are walking somewhere, his fingers twitch to hold onto yours. He’s taken to placing his hand near your lower back, not quite touching you, but close enough where he can feel your body heat.

You like to curl up in the corner of your sectional couch, and he feels like you’re a million miles away when he sits on the other end.

Getting to know you again is a whirlwind of feelings he doesn’t understand. You’re kind, and beautiful, and you make him laugh. He has near constant butterflies in his stomach whenever you’re around.

He knows himself well enough to know that he’s developed feelings for you, and the concept makes his head hurt, knowing this isn’t the first time but not remembering it. He doesn’t mention it to you, because he doesn’t know if it would make things better or worse.

He wants to ask you questions about the two of you, too. You told him how you met, but he wants to know what your first date was like. He wants to know who said I love you first, though he thinks it was him. He wants to know how he proposed after only 4 months of knowing you and he wants to know why you said yes.

He wants to know everything, but he can’t bring himself to ask. Part of him is scared of the answers.

He’s seen the way you look at him, sometimes. Like it breaks your heart for him to be there with you, even though he knows how relieved you are for him to be. You don’t say anything to him, but he knows that you’re struggling. You do your best to always keep a smile on your face around him, but it’s your eyes that give you away, combined with this deep instinct he seems to have when it comes to you and your emotions.

After dinner every night, you’ve been finding yourselves sitting out on the back porch. The weather has been getting cooler and watching the sun go down with you has become his favorite part of being home. You avoid anything too heavy, too intimate, but you regale him with different tales from the last few years with your friends and your individual careers, or of you before you knew him, but the light in your eye is dim whenever you finish a tale and there’s no recognition in his.

He’s worried about you, but he doesn’t know if he has the right to tell you that. There’s something of a tension building in the air, and he can’t figure out how to cut through it just yet.

But he enjoys getting to know you again, and he hangs onto your every word. He loves every single moment the two of you have together and craves more of them. Even the most mundane of things, like when he went with you to the grocery store of all places. Phoenix had loaded their kitchen with essentials, but there was a specific recipe you were wanting to make that you swore he would love but that you needed a few things for. You looked surprised when he had asked if he could go with you, but pleased at the same time.

He pushed the cart as you checked things off your list and god, he loved watching you. You were looking up and down the aisle you were standing in, seemingly a little puzzled, and he was completely enraptured.

“I can never remember where the dates are,” you muttered, and he thinks it might have been only to yourself, but he couldn’t help but smirk a little bit.

“On a calendar?”

You shot him a look, looking incredulous but amused, and smacked him lightly on the arm with the list you were carrying. The touch sent a shot of electricity through him and he laughed, feeling warm. “Ow.”

“Okay, you comedian,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “I was going to make you dessert, but maybe I won’t now,”

“No, come on,” he laughed, pushing the cart forward, nodding his head to the side, “They’re in the next aisle over,”

You stop walking, and after a second, Bradley does too, realizing what he just said. He turns to you and you’re looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. He thinks he might see a little bit of pride in them, too. And it’s so silly, getting choked up by instinctively remembering where something is in a grocery store he can never remember being in, but he feels a lump in his throat anyway. He coughs, trying to dislodge the emotion. You don’t say a word, maybe sensing the moment that he’s having, but you squeeze his arm when you pass by him on your way to the aisle he indicated. After a moment, he follows behind you.

He thinks he would follow you anywhere.

————

It’s a Friday and he's been home for eight days now. He has a headache when he wakes up that morning, and he can’t remember anything notable from the previous night's dream to write down in his notebook. Part of him wants to go back to sleep and try again, but he pushes himself out of bed anyway.

Like she had been the last few days, Florry is laying at the guest room door when he opens it. She looks up and meows at him, nuzzling into his hand when he squats down to scratch her head for a moment before she gets up and struts away. He snorts at her, amused at how as soon as she gets what she wants, she moves on to something else.

He makes his way downstairs slowly, feeling like a drum is pounded right in his ear with every step. There’s a distinct spice in the air as he walks toward the kitchen, and it takes a few sniffs before he places it.

“Pumpkin?”

To his surprise, you gasp, and the knife you were holding slips from your grasp and clatters to the granite countertop. You jumped back from it, but your wide eyes were looking straight at him.

“What did you just call me?”

“What?”

“You said - you called me Pumpkin.”

This was one of those significant moments that he was missing. Bradley suddenly felt incredibly awkward, and a little ashamed. A flush crept up his neck to warm his cheeks in the worst way.

“I uh - I was talking about the smell.”

Watching your face fall cuts him worse than the knife you had been holding ever could. For a brief moment, he saw raw devastation completely overcome you. He starts to say your name, but you cut him off before he can.

“I’m making pumpkin banana pancakes,” you tell him after a moment. You pick the knife back up to continue cutting up the fruit you had on the cutting board. He wants to ask you what had just happened, but bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself. He’s frustrated that he can’t remember, and the hurt in your eyes was making his head pound harder. He hates that he’s putting you through this.

The two of you eat breakfast together, but it’s quieter than it normally is. The air was awkward, tense, and it seemed that neither one of you really knew what to say.

The day had only gotten worse from there. He was late for his doctor's appointment because the two of you had gotten stuck in traffic, and there was little he hated more in life than being late. His headache had only gotten worse, and he hadn’t been cleared to drive or go back to any sort of desk duty yet. To top it all off, the two of you had run into someone you knew during a near silent lunch and he had to awkwardly push himself through the conversation while pretending he did, too ashamed to actually say he had no idea who he was.

By the time you returned back home, he was in a sour mood, and he really wanted to go back to bed.

“Do you need anything?” you asked softly, hovering between the kitchen and living room as he settled himself on the couch unceremoniously.

“No,” he said shortly, pulling a blanket over him.

You sigh, and he’s irritated with himself for making you feel bad, too.

“I’m going to go up to my office for a bit then, okay?” he doesn’t respond. When you sigh, he’s irritated with himself even more for making you feel bad, too. “You can come up and get me if you need anything.”

Bradley tries to nap the afternoon away, but it’s more fitful than restful. He tosses and turns on the couch. Florry jumps on him at one point, waking him from one of his dozes.

He closes his eyes, trying again to find some sort of sleep, but nothing comes for him. His mind was moving a little too quickly now, and the guilt was setting in. He had been short with you almost all day, and even if he was frustrated, you didn’t deserve that. You were frustrated too, even if you wouldn’t say it.

Sometimes he wishes you would.

Why the hell did this happen to him after everything else in his life?

His dad, and then his mom, and Mav pulling his papers. He still hasn’t brought himself to reach out to the man he had apparently reconciled with, but you’ve mentioned how he’s asked after him whenever the two of you speak, as had the rest of the crew. It’s frustrating, suddenly having all these people in his life who he views as family, only to have no recollection of who they are. Seeing himself in all of these pictures that are throughout the house constantly boggles his mind. He hates being so confused all the time.

He hates that he can’t remember you, and that you spend all of your days trying to be strong for him.

He groans, running a hand roughly over his face. After another 45 minutes of staring at the ceiling fan spin, he throws the blanket off of his legs and forces himself up. He couldn’t do much, but he could at least apologize.

He drags himself up the stairs slowly, trying to figure out exactly what to say. The door to your office is pulled closed for the first time since he’s come home; he tries not to read into that as you wanting him to stay away. He goes to take a step closer and knock, but your voice through the door stops him.

“The timing is awful, Jake.”

His eyebrows furrowed together. The only Jake he knew was Hangman, and he hasn’t wrapped his mind completely around the fact that he was apparently one of his best friends now.

“Bringing a baby into this would make everything so much more complicated. He’s struggling enough as it is. You think suddenly becoming a father would make this all better? The test being negative is for the best.”

He sucks in a breath, feeling like he just got suckerpunched right in the stomach. He braces himself against the hallway wall with one hand, unsure if he heard you correctly.

“I’m okay,” you say, and he wishes he could hear both sides of the conversation. He feels like he’s going to pass out. “I promise.”

There’s another pause, and you let out a small laugh, “I might take you up on that, J.”

Bradley backs away from the door, his mind going a thousand miles a minute as he tries to process what just happened.

A baby? You were talking about having a baby. You had mentioned a test. Had you taken it recently? Since he had been home? Why hadn’t you told him, if you had? Was this something that had happened before his accident and just another thing that he forgot?

He’s your husband. He may not remember it, but he was. Didn’t he have a right to know?

He stews for a while, and that’s his biggest mistake. He’s scared, and bizarrely disappointed, he’s hurt, but most of all he’s angry. He’s angry that you’re talking to other people about something so personal, but not him. And Hangman, of all people. It festers inside of him, and by the time you come back downstairs, he’s sizzling in it.

“How does chicken and asparagus sound for dinner?” You’re smiling as you walk into the room, but it drops when you see the look in his face. “Are you alright?”

“You thought you were pregnant?”

The color drains from your face, and he knows he has his answer. He stands up from the couch to face you, his thoughts jumbled together, fighting for dominance in his head. You had thought you were pregnant. And you didn’t tell him.

“How did you know that?”

“I overheard you on the phone with Hangman,” he practically spits the name, feeling his anger swell even more. “When did you take it?”

“Bradley-”

“When did you take the test?”

You let out a long, shaky breath. You’re twisting your ring around your finger again, and your eyes are starting to glass up, but he forces himself not to focus on any of that. “Yesterday,” you admit softly, “I took it yesterday.”

He groans, running a hand through his hair. You both had been in this house almost all day yesterday. He had been right here. “Why wouldn’t you tell me? I could have been there with you!”

“Bradley-”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me that we’d been trying to have kids before I got hurt?”

“Bradley, I really don’t think we should talk about this right now,” you said, trying to remain as calm as possible, but he was already way past that point.

“Well I want to talk about it,” he snaps, “Why would you keep this from me?”

“I’m not keeping anything from you!” you say, your voice rising to meet his. “We aren’t trying for a baby, Bradley. It was a scare. That’s all.”

“But you still took a test! And you didn’t tell me!”

“There was nothing to tell,” you try, but Bradley shakes his head as his anger reaches a boiling point.

“Not to me, apparently. You told fucking Hangman about it, but not me? Aren’t I the one who is supposed to be your husband?”

“Yeah, Bradley. You are,” you finally snap, your voice raising for the first time, “But how the hell was I supposed to tell you when you don’t even remember who I am?”

It was a low blow, but Bradley has never been one to back down.

“I’m trying!” he yells, and you startle back at just how loud he is, “I’m trying every single day. You think I don’t want to remember you? Someone I apparently almost had a kid with? Someone who I want to care for and protect even though I have no idea why? I know this sucks for you, but think about what I’m going through here.”

“You think I’m not thinking about you?” you demand, shaking your head, “You’re all I’ve been thinking about, Bradley!”

“Am I?,” he asks, and your mouth drops at the words, but he keeps going anyway even though every instinct in him is screaming at him to shut up. “I trust you without being able to remember you, but it’s hard to do that if you keep things from me. I have no idea what the fuck is going on the majority of the time and you’re the only one I have who will tell me things. Or don’t you want me to remember?”

The words came out harsher than he anticipated. The look on your face made him wish that he could take them back. His anger dissipated as he saw the tears that had been welling up in your eyes finally fall.

Your name left his lips, but you cut him off before an apology could follow behind.

“Of course I do,” you choked out, a sob catching in your throat. It looks like there’s more you want to say, but after a moment, you just shake your head, your breathing labored. “I think I’m going to go for a walk.”

Those weren’t the words he expected. Alarm bells are ringing loudly in his head, demanding he fix what he’s done here.

“What?”

“I need some air,” you explain, your voice cracking. His heart ached watching you gather your phone and keys.

He speaks your name again, pleading and reaching out for you as you step toward the front door. To his surprise, you ripped your arm out of his grasp. “You don’t call me that,” you snapped. Bradley’s eyes widened. He watches as you take a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“I’ll be back in a little bit,” you promise. You don’t look at him as you grab a pair of shoes from the closet by the front door, slipping them on. You don’t slam the door when you leave, but the sound of it closing still echoes like gunfire to him.

He sinks back onto the couch, his aching head in his hands, wondering what the hell he had just done.

————

An hour has passed and you still weren’t back yet. Bradley has taken to pacing back and forth through the living room, peeking out of the curtains by the front door. He shouldn’t have let you leave when you were that upset. He shouldn’t have made you that upset to begin with. He was out of line.

When he really thinks about it with a clearer mind, he understands to an extent why you didn’t tell him about taking the test. He was virtually a stranger to you right now. There would have been little point to filling him in right now when it would have just panicked and confused him. He knows, deep down, that if the test would have been positive that you would have told him. But he had been so scared at that moment, overhearing you on the phone like that. And if he really admitted it to himself, he was jealous, too. He wanted to be the one you confided in for all of those things, big or small, certainty or uncertainty. But he had done nothing to really earn that.

It wasn’t fair that he accused you of not thinking about him, either. It was so clear in everything that the two of you did that you were taking him into consideration. You had stayed with him every single day in the hospital. You had taken an impromptu leave of absence from work and drove him to all of his appointments. You cooked all of his meals for him and made sure he took his medicine on time and were readily available if he needed anything. You did everything you could to make him as comfortable as he could possibly be in this impossibly uncomfortable situation. You had sacrificed everything for him, and he was a jerk to you in response.

He really, really wants you to come home soon.

He had gotten his phone back, but he hadn’t brought himself around to touching it yet, knowing it would be full of a whole life that he wasn’t ready to face yet. Would you even answer if he called at this point?

Maybe he could go look for you instead.

Right when he’s about to grab his shoes, he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He heaves a sigh of relief when he sees you climbing the steps to the back porch through the window in the kitchen.

You must have come through the back gate instead. He doesn’t even care if it was because you wanted to avoid running into him immediately, so long as you were safe.

You don’t unlock the door or move to enter the house. Instead, he watches as you settle into one of the plush chairs you have out there below the window that faces into the yard. Your back is to him now, but he’s breathing easier that you’re in his line of sight; you’re okay.

He lets you be, for a little while. But after another 20 minutes had passed and the sun started setting without you coming inside, he couldn’t take it anymore. He was vibrating with the need to be near you again, to talk to you and apologize. He didn’t like being on the outs with you like this, and he knew it was mostly his fault.

Your knees are tucked into your chest and your head leant back, but he could see that your eyes were open. They turned to him when he cracked open the door.

“Hey,” he said simply.

“Hey.” Your voice is still thick with the tears you had cried earlier. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, knowing he was the one who caused it.

“Do you mind if I join you out here?”

“Sure.”

He steps out onto the porch, sliding the door shut behind him. You look back out into the orange covering your background as he sinks into the chair next to you.

“How uh..how was your walk?”

“It was fine,” you respond, hugging your knees a little bit closer. You go to push a piece of hair behind your ear and your ring glints in the setting sun.

“I was worried about you,” he whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear him. But you do, turning your head to look at him. For the first time, he can’t quite read the look on your face. He takes a shaky breath, rubbing his palms on his thighs as he tries to figure out his words. “I’m sorry,” he finally says.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn’t have kept something that big from you.”

He shakes his head, because blaming yourself is the last thing he wants for you. “You were looking out for me,” he says, “I understand that now. You…you would have told me, if the results were different. I know that.”

You nod, not saying anything, and Bradley sighs out your name again. “It wasn’t fair for me to snap at you like that. To yell at you like that. I-I’m so sorry.”

“You’re going through a lot right now.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, “but so are you. All of this, me being hurt and not….” he cuts himself off, but by the way you close your eyes and let a tear slip down your cheek, you knew exactly what he was going to say.

Not remembering us.

“I’ll never be mad at you for being injured, baby,” you say quietly. The term of endearment takes him by surprise. You were always careful with calling him by his name in an unnecessary effort to make him more comfortable; part of him wondered if you were trying to curb his own guilt.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says back. He desperately wants you to know that. You take a shuddering breath at the words.

“This isn’t your fault,” you say it like it’s an oath, so much so that he almost believes you. But it was hard to do that when there were tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Having you here is harder than I thought it would be,” you admitted so quietly that Bradley could barely hear you. “It’s like a part of me is missing, even though you’re right here in front of me. And I know it’s hard for you to not remember anything, and I’m being selfish-“

“You aren’t being selfish.”

You chuckle humorlessly, wiping away at your tears.

“I’m serious,” he says, and his fingers itch to reach for you. “I think you may be the most selfless person I’ve ever met. You’ve done nothing but take care of me the last two weeks, even when I was in the hospital.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” you promise, “You’re the most important person in the world to me, Bradley.”

He doesn’t quite know how to respond to that at first, overcome with the emotions that it caused. He thinks that he would do anything for you, too.

“I want to remember you,” he finds himself saying, and your eyes shoot to him again, startled at the words. He nods. “I’m not-I’m not good at saying how I feel. But I’ve never, ever felt like I do when I’m with you. You give me butterflies. And I have this instinctual urge to protect you and make you happy. Being around you has been the best part of everyday, even if I’m so confused the whole time.”

You sniffle as more tears fall.

“You say all those things about me,” he continues, “and how you’ll always take care of me. And I know I would do the same for you. Even now.”

He lets out a shaky breath, ”It’s like I know who you are right here,” he taps his hand against his chest over his heart, and you let out a small sob. He raises his hand to tap his fingers against his forehead, too. “But I think I need your help to remember you here, okay?”

“I can do that,” you hiccup, nodding rapidly. “We can do it together.”

“That sounds nice.” It really, really does. He returns your soft, watery smile, and he revels in how your eyes shine in the moonlight that had appeared, looking at him like he really was something special to you.

“Can I -” you stop, clearing your throat and shaking your head as if you’re trying to talk yourself out of something.

“What?” he encourages.

“Nothing.”

“No,” he insists, “please. Tell me.”

“Can I ask you to do something for me?”

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in his answer; he wants to do whatever he could for you.

Your breathing is shaky, and your voice is as small as he had heard it since he’d opened his eyes and had no idea who you were to him. Your eyes are bright with tears and dull with heartache all at the same time, but you’re still so heartbreakingly beautiful to him.

“You tell me everyday. Multiple times most days, and even when you’re deployed, I don’t think you’ve gone this long without saying it somehow. I’ve been wanting to hear it so bad since I got the call you were hurt, because I knew it would mean that you’re okay, and I know you aren’t okay, but you’re here and that’s all that really matters and I-”

He whispers your name to stop your rambling, worried about how tightly you were wringing your hands together and how quickly your breaths were coming. “What is it?”

“Can you just…tell me you love me? Please?”

Tears spring to his eyes this time, hating himself for putting you in this situation where you ever, ever had to ask him for something like this. The him from three weeks ago would hate the him sitting here right now. Hell, current him hates himself a little bit. He pushes that hatred aside, though, because this is something he can do. You’re going through misery because of him and this is the first request you had of him.

He doesn’t stop himself this time from reaching out for you. He drops to his knees in front of the chair you were curled up in, cupping your face in his hands. You gasp softly through your tears, reaching up and gripping his wrists in your own hands. He likes to think it was because you wanted to hold him there against you. Even with your tears splashing against his skin, it feels so right, touching you like this.

You were breathing the same air as one another. He wipes a tear away when it hit his skin. He waits until your glassy eyes lock with his own to whisper the words: “I love you.”

And he knows, in the deepest depths of his soul, even after so little time passing since being reintroduced to you, that it’s true. He feels a peace settle over him that hadn’t been there before; a missing piece slotting into place, even if the puzzle is nowhere near complete. Saying it feels so, so right, and he can’t help but close the distance between the two of you. It’s a gentle touch, but your lips are so soft against his that he leans into it.

There's electricity burning under his skin.

Something flickers in his mind, like a light struggling to turn on. A burnt orange dress and a Cinderella reference, cobblestone streets and a latte that tastes better on your lips than in the cup. There’s a word right there, and he struggles for a moment to grasp onto it. But when he does, it’s like he’s seeing in color after being in a black and white movie.

“Pumpkin,” he breathes against your lips, “I call you Pumpkin.”

You sob, then, nodding your head. You’re so close that he can feel your nose brushing against his. You kiss him again, the salt of your tears mixing with his. Your hands move from where they had been grasping his wrists to wrap around his body and you let yourself fall into him, slipping from the chair to meet him on the ground.

When you pull away from his kiss, you bury your face in his neck, still crying softly. He holds you against him tightly.

“I’m right here,” he says into your hair like a promise, pressing his lips wherever he can reach, “we’ll remember everything together.”

----

Part Six :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: I hope you liked this one! Would love to hear any thoughts you may have :)

Tag List: @roosterforme - @mak-32 - @hoyaharper - @wildxwidow - @gretagerwigsmuse - @bradshawburner - @iamaslytherin0 - @lilyevanswhore - @too-fangirl-to-fuction - @fav-fanficssss - @benhardysdrumstick - @fandomxpreferences - @acatwriteshere - @1234-angelika - @double-j - @cocoskween - @sunflowersteves - @teacupsandtopgun - @littlezee80 - @sometimesanalice - @je-suis-prest-rachel - @khaylin27 - @infamous-reindeer - @hotch-meeeeeuppppp - @sarahjoestewy-blog - @sunnysidesidra - @notroosterbradshaw - @yanna-banana - @inthestars-underthesun @avengersfan25 - @wkndwlff - @zbeez-outlet - @lt-spork - @indynerdgirl - @loveforaugust - @mssleepy876b

@kassieesworld - @luckylexie - @lovemesomevesey - @mizzzpink - @books-for-summer - @a-serene-place-to-be - @deviltsunoda - @tv-fanatic18 - @memoriesat30 - @melody-death - @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog - @dabisblackprincess - @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy - @realdirectionx - @waywardhunter95 - @myownworstenemyyy - @sexualparkour - @sadpetalsstuff - @almostgenerallyalways - @hawsx3 - @nogoodchamberskid - @alilstressyandlotdepressy - @ebonyhogan24 - @14readwritedraw96 - @ccbb2222 - @taytaylala12 - @haideehaids - @alittlechaotics-blog - @starkleila

@shelbycillian - @mavrellover91 - @vici111 - @merishfit - @plaper1 - @lunamooncole - @eclecticfashionbookszipper - @pariahsparadise - @bunny-nonnie - @blackwidownat2814 - @huang-the-geek - @jpgliv - @topaz125 - @bluelicious - @loveyhoneydovey - @pisupsala - @nuvoleincielo - @littlemiss-n - @olivezeppelin - @jynxmirage - @shanimallina87 - @ouralcohol - @lumpypoll - @discowitchyy - @bellaireland1981- @princessmiaelicia - @eighthwvnder - @floydflys - @smile-child-13 - @rashelruby10 - @aj-weekend - @wolfiealina - @csoutsider - @blairfox04 - @cowboybarbie - @haydensith - @anony1080 - @itsizzythebell - @caitlin222 - @vabeachazn - @phantomxoxo - @letsgomamas - @myhealthymarvelobsession - @bleu-okyio - @slippinginto-theairwaves - @winterrebel04 - @wherethewildfanlives

@roosterbruiser - @keepingitlokiii - @bunny-nonnie - @anarchyrising - @shawnsblue - @greasemonkeydarling - @mishala005 - @greatszu - @misshoneypaper - @captainorbust-blog - @moondancediner - @ijustwantedplums - @jynxmirage

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #Bradley bradshaw fic #alli writes #Bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw angst #Bradley Bradshaw fanfiction #rooster bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw x you #rooster x you

1K notes · View notes

dreamingundone · 9 months

Text

Infinite Space

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Female OC Rating/Warnings: No real warnings. Angsty but with a happy ending. Summary: Her life has consisted of work, trying to find her way in the world, and more work. Until he walked through the doors of her bakery. Disclaimer: I don’t own TG:M, Jake, or the lyrics I used for the title and that are at the beginning of the fic, which is from “Infinite Space” by Young Mister. Please don’t repost or translate my work without my permission! Author’s Note: Feeling some type of way about my lack of love life lately. I also read Mixed Signals by B.K. Borison last week and it gave me feelings. So here we are. Hope you enjoy!

Are you listening? Are you sending out a message of your own? Show me some flashing lights Give me a signal I'll be waiting by the window

Baking makes perfect sense to her. It’s scientific, exact measurements that when put together and baked, create something beautiful in the end.

She always thought love was like that too. Two people with the ingredients the other is missing come together, and something beautiful comes out of it. It’s just not been the case for her, ever in her entire life, and it’s something she struggles to make sense of.

It’s not like she’s miserable. She has her friends and her little house that she loves, and her bakery. She spends her days surrounded in a cloud of flour, sugar, and butter, and she makes people happy by giving them birthday cakes, little treats for their friends, and breakfast pastries to brighten up their mornings.

It’s when she leaves for the day that she feels the absence of something to make her feel happy. Her little bungalow, as cozy as it is, starts to feel too quiet sometimes, and if she lets herself think her own thoughts for too long, that emptiness starts to fill her up.

The arrival of the newest Top Gun class keeps her really busy. They come in for sweet treats and coffee and take up space at the tables at the front of the store. There’s whispers about some top-secret mission that no one really knows much about, but also everyone knows about it. It makes her grin. Nothing is ever a secret at Miramar for too long.

She’s in the middle of sliding a tray of mini cinnamon rolls into the oven when the bell over the door chimes, and she frowns, annoyed that someone is coming in this close to closing time.

“We’re–” She turns around and stops, seeing the most bedraggled fighter pilot she’s ever seen standing in her lobby, looking for all the world like he’s been in the air for hours.

“I know you’re about to close, I’m sorry.” He says, dragging a hand across his face. “Any chance you have coffee left? I’ll pay extra for it.”

“Are you okay?” She asks, coming around the counter. She slides out a chair to one of the tables, and he collapses in it gratefully. He looks a little bewildered at her question, like he can’t remember the last time someone asked about his well being.

“I’ll be alright,” he says. “I can go, I’m sorry if I’m–”

“No, I have coffee left. Made a fresh pot a half hour ago. Just let me…” she steps quickly towards the door and locks it, flipping the sign to “closed”. Heading back towards the counter, she grabs a to-go cup and starts pouring, hearing his audible sigh when the coffee steams.

“Long day?” She asks, walking back to the table and setting down the cup.

“You don’t know the half of it.” He says, eyes closing as he inhales the steam. “Seriously, let me pay extra. I don’t mean to keep you.”

She shrugs. “I’ll be here a while longer anyway.”

“Thank you.” He takes a sip, and swallows a groan. She grins. She may be known for her pastries and cakes, but she makes a mean cup of coffee, too. “I’m Jake,” he says, holding out his free hand.

She introduces herself, and shakes his hand. “I’ve seen you here before,” she says, and he nods.

“Anyone who’s been at Miramar long enough knows this is the place to go for breakfast. I think your donuts have single handedly helped me stay in my weight class.” He grins at her now, and it’s such a difference from the man that walked through the door a few moments ago, she’s momentarily blindsided.

“Any reason you’re here in time for dinner, then?” She heads back behind the counter to begin stacking plates for the next day’s morning rush.

He winces. “I’m due back at the base tonight. It’s—” He stops himself, raises an eyebrow. “I really shouldn’t be telling you this.” He stands, and it looks like it takes all his energy to haul himself to his feet. He drains the rest of his coffee in two gulps and sets the mug down on the counter. He starts to dig into his pocket for his wallet, but she waves her hand.

“That one’s on me, Jake.”

And so it goes like that, at least once a week for the next month. Jake comes just before closing to beg for a cup of coffee, and a few times, he scrounges up the leftover pastries to bring back to base with him. He insists he’s not hoarding them all for himself, but really, she doesn’t mind.

Jake is easy to talk to. There’s an alarm bell clanging in her mind every time he leaves, because she knows one day he might not be back at all. He could get deployed, or reassigned, and then where would that leave her?

Right back where she’s been, going home alone at the end of a long day.

They don’t even really know each other besides the basics. She tells herself not to get attached to him, to the way he swaggers in now like he owns the place, that little dimpled smile she’s starting to think is only for her.

He moves from a table to the counter, and watches with his coffee as she preps pastries for the next morning, or does dishes, and he offers a thought here or there about bear claws or croissants or whatever it is she’s trying a recipe for.

In turn, she listens as he complains about work, about the endless training they’re doing for some mission he can’t tell her anything about.

There’s some tension between him and his coworkers that he also doesn’t open up much about, but that’s okay with her. They’re in this little bubble, she and Jake. She bakes, and he samples. They don’t get too deep. She feels like it’s an escape from the rest of her life.

It absolutely aches every time he leaves, and the emptiness she feels when she goes home at night only gets worse. She feels like she’s been waiting forever for a connection like this, and it’s that feeling that makes her hesitant. She’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The next time she sees Jake, he’s tense, his shoulders drawn up and face stoic.

“Jake?”

He doesn’t say anything for a while. She starts to get worried, starts to wonder if it’s finally happening - he’s here to tell her that he’s leaving and he’s not coming back - or worse, going to tell her that he’s been being nice by coming here so often, but that there’s nothing really there between them, and he’s sorry.

“I, uh–” he takes a few steps closer, and when he gets within arm’s reach, he stops, looking at her with an unreadable expression. “You smell like cinnamon.” He smiles, his voice a little rough.

“Occupational hazard.” She replies, smiling.

“I’m being deployed.” He blurts, and he flexes his hands like he’s not sure what to do with the energy running through his veins. “I wanted to tell you, I didn’t want to just disappear…”

Her defense mechanism kicks in right away. “That’s okay,” she says quickly, busying herself by tidying up the counter by the register. “You didn’t have to come by just to tell me that. I mean, we’re not–” she gestures vaguely, not able to meet his eyes.

If she did, she’d see the way he blinks rapidly, taking a small step back, before clearing his throat. “Right.”

She forces a bright smile and looks up, seeing how he’s still standing by the door. “I appreciate you letting me know. I’ll have to stop leaving the coffee pot hot past three in the afternoon, now.”

His answering smile is a little brittle. “Hopefully not forever.” He looks like he wants to say something else, but he just nods at her once. “I won’t keep you. Thanks for… well, for everything. The last few weeks.”

“You’re welcome, Jake.” She says. She wishes she could just open her mouth. She wishes she was brave enough to tell him that she wishes he would ask her out for real, instead of coming by for a cup of coffee and pastry. She wishes she could just say that his company over the last few weeks means more to her than he knows.

She doesn’t.

He leaves.

……………….

What if I never reach you What if I never get to see your face I've been dying to break through I know you're somewhere out there in the infinite space Somewhere out there in the infinite space

Not being picked for the Dagger mission would have been a blow to Jake’s ego on any day, but it’s especially a kick to the gut a week after his last conversation with her.

“We’re not–”

She had said it so quickly, so casually, he was just glad that she hadn’t been looking at him in time to see the way he felt it like a physical blow.

He’s not stupid - he’s not in love with her or anything, but he feels… something. He felt it the minute he came in, hoping the bakery was still open, desperate for a decent cup of coffee to give him the boost he needed to get back to work.

When he looked up and saw her there, it was like a punch right to his chest. She had flour on her cheek and there was the smell of butter and cinnamon in the air, and she asked him if he was okay.

That was all it took, really.

He kept finding excuses to come back, and at first he kept saying it was because he’d never had a neighborhood place, a place where he walked in and they knew his name and his order. This was better. She knows his name, and that he likes his coffee with one sugar and one cream, and sometimes she gives him a free cookie or croissant or asks him to taste something she’s working on.

That’s all it is.

A place where he can go where she doesn’t know him, doesn’t know that everyone calls him Bagman, doesn’t know that he’s a grade A asshole to his friends on a daily basis.

He can be someone else. And the worst part, the part that really makes him wonder where it all went wrong, is that he wants to be someone else. He wants to be better. He wants to be more deserving of that smile he gets from her when she puts that cup of coffee in front of him.

Maybe he read it all wrong. Maybe she was just being nice, humoring the exhausted pilot who kept showing up and mooching her coffee.

He runs a hand over his face, trying to concentrate on the mission specs for tomorrow. Even though he’s the spare for this, he’s determined to be ready for his moment, to prove he’s supposed to be here.

Of course the whole thing goes sideways, because of course it does. His heart is in his throat and he feels helpless the entire time, and finally he just does what he needs to do.

He says fuck it, and he takes off, unable to listen to a second more of everyone else deliberating whether or not they should sit there while Mav and Rooster get killed.

So he goes AWOL, and he does what needs to be done. It’s the first time in a long time that he’s felt he did the right thing, and he can see it in the eyes of all his squadmates.

It makes him feel more like the person he is when he’s around her.

It scared the shit out of him, too - the entire day was one non-stop adrenaline ride.

He wishes he was back in San Diego, wishes he could drive the few miles from base to the bakery, and let her talk him down. She’s always got that smile, and she always smells like chocolate and sugar, and he wishes he wasn’t such an idiot.

He should have asked her out weeks ago, so there wouldn’t have been that awkward moment. At least then he’d be sure he hadn’t just imagined the connection between them, that he wasn’t making it up. He feels like he’s known her for years, and he doesn’t even have her phone number.

He resolves to fix it as soon as they get back, as long as he’s not facing a court martial first.

...............

She wonders how Jake’s deployment is going almost every day. She keeps herself busy, tries not to replay every second of their last interaction in her head, and tries to convince herself she did the right thing.

But the look on his face when she told him not to worry about ghosting her… was there something there?

She feels like she’s been waiting for her person for so long, that it seems impossible that one day he’d just show up out of the blue asking for a cup of coffee. But what if he did?

What if she ruined it by trying to protect herself?

Too busy daydreaming, she groans as she looks down at her ruined bowl of buttercream frosting, moving to the trash can to begin scraping it out. All day she’s been like this, distracted and making mistakes.

She’s watching the clock drift closer to time to go home, and without much else to keep her busy, she’s dreading going home where all she’s going to do is overthink more than she already is.

The chime on the door surprises her, and her heart stutters.

“Any chance you’ve got one of those cinnamon rolls left?” A familiar voice asks.

Her heart lurches. “Jake?”

He looks tired, but his eyes are almost sparkling as he looks at her. “Hey.”

“You’re back.” She blurts, and immediately feels stupid. He’s standing right in front of her. Of course he is. It doesn’t deter him, though. If anything, it only makes him smile wider.

“Before you say anything, I just want to tell you that you were wrong, the last time we talked.”

Her brow furrows. “Wrong?”

“When you said it wouldn’t have mattered if I didn’t let you know I was being deployed.” He takes a few steps closer. “When you said we weren’t…” he trails off, gesturing between the two of them. “I know it’s just been a few weeks, and I know we’ve only had conversations over coffee about non-important stuff.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking like he was struggling to find the right words. He looked up to meet her gaze. “I’d like to take you out, if you’ll let me.”

Everything she’d been feeling over the last few weeks felt like it landed on her shoulders in the moment. She felt the relief of knowing that she wasn’t alone in her feelings. She felt guilty for pushing him away in the first place.

“I think I owe you an apology, Jake.” She says quietly, coming around from behind the counter. “I just… I didn’t know if you were just being nice to me, coming here all those nights. I didn’t want to assume anything. And I didn’t want you to feel obligated when you came back.”

He frowns. “I kept coming here for you, no offense to your coffee.” He takes another step closer, so the tips of their shoes are almost touching. “The cinnamon rolls are a plus.”

She laughs, and his grin widens.

“Is that a yes? You’ll go out with me?”

“Only if you tell me what happened on this not-so-secret top secret mission.”

He rolls his eyes. “Everyone around here is such a gossip. I can’t tell you everything but I can tell you about how I was a hero and saved the day.” His smile is smug.

“Perfect.” She says, and there, in the warm light of her bakery, surrounded by everything she’s ever known, she thinks she’s finally ready to take the leap and see if he’s the one she’s been waiting for, the other half she didn’t know she was missing all these years.

And for once, she’s not scared anymore.

#jake seresin x oc #hangman seresin x oc #top gun maverick fanfiction #well here it is a million years late #and this isn't the fake dating fic i promised #that's still to come!!!!

387 notes · View notes

jostyriggslover96 · 7 months

Text

Someone Unexpected

Summary: Kira (OC) and Jack met through mutual friends (Nolan Patrick and Nico Heiser) unexpectedly one summer. Feeling an instant connection, they decide to go on a date. Nerves take over as the two set out on what might be their first date of many. **This is a continuation of Kira & Jack from Summer Rituals, it might be helpful to check that out! *Kira's thoughts have been italicized.

Part of the HEART FIRST Series

Note: Thank you so much for all the love on Summer Rituals, I am super excited to continue Kira and Jack's story! All of your support means a lot to me! I have a lot planned with them, if you want to be tagged let me know.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, past relationships

Word Count: 6k

Life can be surreal sometimes with the way things fall into place. There is this saying about dating that I’ve always hated, ‘you’ll meet someone when you least expect it’. That saying has always set me off because it's never been true. I have spent my fair share of time alone and in relationships with shitty guys; yet, I have never met the right one when I’m not looking for anything. That is, until now.

To say I didn’t expect to meet anyone, let alone Jack Hughes on what seemed like a normal summer day was an understatement. I thought it would be a quiet day on the boat where I could read and Nolan could fish. When I showed up at the docks this morning, there he was in all his glory. Despite being completely enamored with Jack from the moment our eyes locked, I kept a safe distance from him when we all got on the boat. If Nolan invited him, I’m sure he wouldn't be an asshole, but I’ve been hurt one too many times to let my guard down. The last guy though, he did a number on me and it took a lot of time for me to heal. Between the cheating, body shaming, and belittling I experienced with my ex I learned to be very wary about trusting men. Even though it's been two years since I left my ex, I’m just starting to feel like I’ve found myself again.

As a protective factor, I kept my distance from the starry-eyed forward and focused my attention on ensuring Nolan didn’t hit any other boats as he backed out of the marina. Still, I didn’t think anything would come from meeting Jack until he sat down beside me and asked me about the book in my beach bag. That question started everything…the perfect day spent getting to know the perfect guy. I explained to him that the book isn’t really a normal book, but it’s actually a collection of poetry.

“So the poems all flow together, but they aren’t about the exact same thing,” I tried to explain to Jack as I thumbed through the book to show him some examples. He was surprisingly eager to listen to my explanation of what was probably one of my favorite collections of poems. Normally guys don’t really care much about my interests…but maybe Jack is different.

“Okay, and they’re all about milk and honey?” Jack questioned while he processed what I was saying. I let out a hearty laugh at his statement; not because he was way off, but because he actually cared. A smile crept across Jack’s face, “what’s so funny?”

“Milk and Honey is the title, but not really the theme,” I smiled while crossing my legs to lean closer to Jack, already starting to warm to him. “They’re about relationships and healing actually.”

“Oh, that actually sounds pretty good,” Jack mirrored my movements, shuffling closer to me on the bench we were sharing.

“Thanks for caring,” I said softly, shooting Jack a more timid smile. Feeling myself retreat to my meek demeanor.

“You like it, of course I care,” the words slid out of his mouth so naturally. Jack Hughes might actually be different.

We spent the rest of the afternoon talking about anything and everything. Movies, music, food, some horrific stories I had from my time as a bartender. We even got into deeper topics too; what it was like growing up in Toronto for him, why I decided to get my first degree and my second, what it was like growing up with two brothers, my differing thoughts on only having one brother, and of course, hockey. Despite being apprehensive when I first met him, he was quickly knocking down the walls I built around myself to stay safe.

“So I originally wanted the number 6, but someone already had it when I came to the team,” Jack explained to me after we had been spending some time discussing what it was like being drafted and playing his rookie year.

“How did you come up with 86 then?” I asked as the sun glinted on my sunglasses. It had been a long afternoon on the boat, but we didn’t care. Jack spent the whole time talking to me, even ignoring the offers to try out wake-surfing when the guys asked.

“Well Quinn wears 43 so I wanted something that tied me to him,” he smiled softly as he tucked his wavy hair behind his ear. The wind was starting to pick up as he attempted to keep his flow at bay.

“He must mean a lot to you,” my fingers brushed his arm as I instinctively reached for him to offer some form of reassurance. Sparks shot through me like lightning as we touched for the first time. As I glanced down to where we connected, Jack reached forward to tuck the stray hairs that had fallen in my eyes. Warmth went rushing to my cheeks as my eyes darted back to his, he was watching me closely.

Shaking his head, as if he was in a daze, he refocused. “They both do, just don’t tell them that,” he joked, his laughter sent fireworks through my body.

Somehow he could be so serious yet sarcastic at the same time. The conversation with him just flowed, it felt so normal. He felt so normal with me. I never imagined that someone who is considered a rising star in the NHL could be so normal with me. Nothing felt fake or ingenuine, it all felt natural and comfortable. Feeling this way with a guy was a completely foreign feeling for me. Jack Hughes was a completely unexpected addition to my life, but even in the 10 hours I’ve known him it is beyond clear to me that he is someone unexpected that I was meant to meet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a long day out on the water, everyone was happy to get out of the sunshine and back to Nolan’s cabin. Despite being initially hesitant around Jack, we had bonded so much on the boat that we were basically attached at the hip. He even came with me when I stopped by my families’ cabin so I could change into some clothes for the evening. In the 5 minutes we were in the cabin, Jack was practically glued to the wall of family photos. He kept shouting questions to me while I was in my room, “Kira is this you in the Mickey ears?”. He was surprised to find out that I used to be a dancer, knew how to play hockey, and that I have a niece. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself as I gathered my things, Jack actually seemed passionate about learning more about me. He’s the first guy, probably ever, who has made that effort with me.

Jack and I walked back to Nolan’s cabin hand-in-hand, which captured the stares of our friends. I knew why my friends were surprised, I honestly haven’t shown any interest in another guy since my last breakup. I’m also not usually one for PDA, but there’s something about Jack that pushes me out of my comfort zone. We settled on a giant lawn chair big enough for two around the firepit and got cozy while everyone got ready to roast hotdogs. This was a typical summer night at the lake that I’ve always loved, with the welcome addition of Jack by my side.

As the night carried on, there was a slight chill in the nighttime breeze that sent shivers down my spine as I watched Nolan tend to the fire. Sensing my sudden chill, Jack pulled me into his side as we shared the plaid tattered blanket that was in the bed of Nolan’s truck. My body froze for a second at the sudden closeness of Jack, normally I was not one for any cuddling or closeness to any guy, let alone someone I just met. Yet as I gazed up into Jack’s soothing blue eyes, I relaxed almost instantly into his warmth. Our friends have been giving us both strange looks all day, clearly shocked at our instant connection. Cuddling under a blanket by the fire was sure to raise some eyebrows.

I didn’t care at all though, completely oblivious to the smirks and pointed looks of our friends as Jack and I settled into comfortable conversation while we roasted marshmallows for smores. Talking to Jack was so easy, maybe because I’ve never met a guy this interested in my life before. We spent the evening chatting about college, hockey, family, travel plans, and much more long after the sunset. We were so caught up in each other, we didn’t even notice that most of our friends had trickled inside or out to the dock.

Taking the final gulp of my beer while Jack told me a story about the lake house he was planning to buy with his brother, I finally noticed that Jack and I were alone by the fire as I set the bottle down. Glancing around over my shoulder to see where our friends had gone brought the same realization to Jack’s attention. Silence filled the air between us for a moment, tension buzzing between us like electricity.

“Soo…,” Jack trailed off as a smile graced his lips. “Guess they ditched us,” he smirked as my lips turned up into a smile to match his.

I let out a slightly nervous chuckle while I regained my bearings. Jack made me nervous, but not in a bad way. Not in the way I was uncomfortable with, but in a way that excited me. “Guess so, jerks,” I joked sarcastically. Jack let out a boisterous chuckle that sent fireworks right to my heart. I would love to hear that laugh for the rest of my life. Jack’s laughter didn’t last long as a serious look that I didn’t recognize graced his features.

“Actually, I was hoping to get you alone tonight,” Jack stuttered. He started scratching the back of his neck while fiddling with the ends of his hair. Suddenly I recognized the signs, he was nervous. It was actually quite sweet watching his demeanor shift.

“Oh yeah?” I questioned as I raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to explain himself further.

“Uh yeah,” he nodded for a moment. “Kira, there’s something I want to ask you.” His speech stopped as he waited to gauge my reaction.

“Go on Jack,” I encouraged, reaching for his hand that was resting on my shoulder to give it a squeeze.

With my reassurance, a smile formed on his lips once more. “Well, I was wondering if…” he paused to take a breath and perhaps gain some confidence. “Would you like to go out on a date with me?”

As the words left his lips and the sound met my ears, shock fell upon my face. My mouth went dry as I scrambled to find the words to answer his question. When was the last time someone asked me on a date? How do people usually respond to these questions?

“Shit, I freaked you out. I know we just met…” he trailed off. My shock was obviously spreading to him in the form of insecurity as his eyes dropped from mine. My mind continued to race as I struggled to find the words to convey my feelings on the matter. Oh god, what if he regrets asking me out?

“I’m not freaked out,” the words tumbled from my mouth without thought. Jack’s eyes lifted from my tattered black converse. “Surprised maybe, but not freaked out,” I commented while sending a warm smile his way.

Jack’s smile mirrored mine once more, god he has a beautiful smile. Moment of truth, time to answer a question that might change my life forever. “I would love to go on a date with you,” I let out a shaky breath as relief filled my body once more.

“Really?” Jack beamed.

“Absolutely Jack,” happiness filled my entire body like a tingle as I watched the gorgeous hockey player’s excitement grow.

“It’s not too soon?” He rebounded quickly.

“Jack, not at all,” I let out a breathy chuckle. “Would I say yes to anyone who asked me out on the first day we met?” I paused for a moment as curiosity filled his eyes. “Definitely not, but there's something different about you, Jack Hughes,” I commented as I stared longingly into his eyes.

“There’s something different about you too Kira,” his voice was but a whisper as he leaned closer to me to brush a few stray hairs behind my ear. His eyes darted to my lips before meeting my gaze once again. Before I could nod in silent permission that he could kiss me, Nolan’s deep voice shook me from my thoughts.

“Yo Kira, your car is blocking Jayden in,” Nolan shouted as he approached us from the cabin. My eyes rolled back as Jack dropped his head in defeat. I let out an exasperated sigh, fucking Nolan.

“Okay, I’ll move it,” I called back before smiling softly at Jack once more before throwing the blanket off my lap and pulling myself from the chair. I guess I’ll have to wait for our date for another chance at a kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A whole 12-hours have passed since my late-night cuddles by the fire with Jack and with that, our first date grew closer. 12-hours felt like an eternity since I last saw Jack, I miss those blue eyes and his smile. Neither Jack nor I wanted to wait long to have our first date, so we planned to have it the very next day. Since I was the resident expert at the lake, I planned our date because I know all the good spots. I also have my family cabin to myself for the week, meaning there won’t be any more interruptions from anyone else, especially Nolan.

As the clock struck 2, I nervously climbed into my hatchback feeling my heart race as I pulled out of the gravel-road makeshift driveway by our cabin. The drive to Nolan’s cabin was short, mere minutes, this didn’t help ease my nerves as I stopped in front of his cabin. Getting out of my car, I rounded the front and leaned against the passenger side to wait for Jack. As I was waiting I started nervously picking my nails, a bad habit I picked up many years before. Pulled from my thoughts as I heard the cabin door swing open, I glanced up and was graced with Jack’s heartstopping smile.

“Hey beautiful,” He smiled as he jogged down the few stairs on the deck and pulled me in for a hug before I could react. Inhaling for a moment as I felt his warmth, my nostrils were met with the soothing smell of his cologne, which could only be described as hot boy cologne.

Recovering from my initial shock, “don’t flatter me, I’m just in comfy clothes,” I retorted. Jack pulled away from our hug, I felt disappointment creep into my bones wanting to pull him closer once more. He eyed me skeptically before glancing down at my outfit; I was sporting lavender leggings with a matching sports bra and a loose white crop top.

“You make comfy clothes look good,” his voice filled with desire as he leaned in once more. He was so close that I could feel his breath dancing across my skin. “You look beautiful,” he whispered before pressing his lips to my cheek and pulling away. My hand shot up to my cheek, skin burning from where his lips once were.

Shaking myself from my momentary trance, I dropped my hand from my warm cheeks. “Well, let’s get going. You’re going to love this hike, it’s my favorite,” I commented as I made my way back to the driver's side to hop back in the car.

“Nice ride,” Jack commented as we were buckling in. Glancing up at him I sent him a warm smile as I started the vehicle before putting it in drive.

“I mean, it’s no Range Rover but it gets me from point a to point b,” I chuckled as we moved away from the cabin. Jack and I chatted comfortably on the short drive to the hiking trail, discussing the lake and its cutesy shops. I was focusing on the road but the few times I glanced over at Jack I caught him staring; he would always look away quickly but I did notice blush creeping up his neck. Maybe he had the first date jitters too.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly the rest of the short drive, I turned into the parking lot by the trail, relieved to see there weren’t any other cars parked. That meant the trail would be quiet, which is perfect for a first date. We both got out of the car as I made my way to the trunk to pull out the small backpack I brought with me. Jack offered to carry it as I reached back into the trunk for the bug spray.

“Did you use bug spray?” I asked softly. Jack scrunched up his face, clearly unhappy to see the repellent.

“No, I hate that stuff,” he mockingly gagged as I shook the can at him. I let out a laugh, my nerves slightly easing at his distaste.

“Well, unless you want to be eaten alive, I would use it,” I commented as I stepped back from him to spray myself down. Once I was done I handed him the can which he reluctantly accepted.

“This is necessary?” he questioned as he hesitated with the spray.

“Welcome to Canada,” I joked as I nodded my head. He sprayed himself with the bug protectant before tossing it back in my trunk. We locked up the car and headed over to the start of the trail just off the parking lot.

“So, you bring a lot of first dates here?” he teased. My cheeks felt flush as I glanced up at the hockey player who was towering over me. After staring into his eyes for a moment I determined that he was joking, we’re still figuring out these quirks about each other.

“Only the ones who are worth it,” I shot back as we started making our way onto the trail. “So my family normally comes on this trail every summer. It’s not super long or uphill but there is a gorgeous lookout point about halfway through,” I explained as Jack and I matched each other's pace. He seemed to enjoy my explanation, listening eagerly when I told him the story of how our family dog jumped into the pond on the side of the trail when she saw a butterfly one year.

“I see why you like this hike,” Jack commented. His voice was a little shaky in a way I didn’t recognize. “Worth it for the bug spray,” he chuckled. I let out a snicker at his clear hatred of bug repellent.

“You lived in Canada before, this can’t be your first experience with bug spray,” I teased. As we continued on the trail I started picking at the hem of my shirt, noticing a few rouge strings pulling away from the material.

“Doesn’t mean I like it, it feels greasy,” he scoffed. I nodded in agreement, he wasn’t wrong. As we rounded a corner venturing deeper into the trees, I stepped over a large tree root.

“Just be careful,” I commented, glancing up at Jack who was staring at me intently. “There are a lot of roots to watch out for…” I trailed off. Just as I was warning Jack about the trail I caught him catching a tree root with his shoe out of the corner of my eye. As Jack started to tumble down I instinctively reached out to grab him with both arms. He gripped my arms tightly as he went down on one knee, his cheeks were red when he met my gaze once more. “Are you okay?”

He took a moment, “Yeah, just my first time walking,” he joked sarcastically. I threw my head back in laughter for a moment before helping him get back on his feet. “Good to hear your laugh,” he smiled as he brushed himself off.

“I did try to warn you,” I feigned, throwing my hands up in mock defense.

“I just meant, you seemed…tense earlier,” he commented as he tried to gently find the words to point out my nerves. Pursing my lips I debated in my head for a moment, do I tell him?

“I’m a bit nervous,” I hesitantly replied, deciding to go with honesty.

Jack let out a long sigh of relief, “So am I, first dates ya know?”

“Oh I know,” I agreed as I felt the tension melt away from my body. Just admitting to the nerves helped relieve them.

“You have nothing to be nervous about Kira,” Jack’s voice was soft as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side as we started to walk again.

“Oh yeah?” I questioned, glancing up at him in uncertainly.

“Yeah, I like you,” he stated matter of factly, so sure of himself. I do love the confidence, he’s not even cocky at all.

“I like you too,” I feel a smile spreading across my face as I glance at the ground making sure we don’t take a repeat tumble. We walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, Jack’s arm still wrapped around me tightly. “So, are you going to hold onto me for the rest of this hike?” I teased.

“I’m not falling again,” he joked sarcastically. I echoed his laughter, feeling bold I wrapped my arm around his lower back as we continued walking. We spent the rest of the hike with our arms wrapped around each other, not caring that doing so slowed down our pace significantly. We just enjoyed being close to each other, it felt comfortable. The silence in the trees was filled with our discussions about our favorite summer memories with our families, he shared a lot about his summers in Michigan and I feel that I grew to know him even more with those stories. Despite being so hesitant yesterday, Jack was easily proving that we could have a normal connection despite his hockey superstardom.

After our hike, we planned to head back to my cabin for dinner. As we parked out front and pulled ourselves from the vehicle an idea crept into my mind. “Still feel greasy from the bug spray?” I questioned as he shut my car door. Nodding his head vigorously he swiped some of the bug spray off his arm as evidence. “You know we could go for a quick swim?” I gestured to the water just off the cabin. My family was lucky enough to have a lakeside cabin with a private dock that I spent most of my summers sitting on.

“I don’t have my swim trunks,” Jack commented hesitantly. I smirked at him for a moment before I started toying with the bottom of my shirt.

“That’s never stopped me before,” I teased before pulling my crop top off and tossing it at the hockey player. Jack’s eyes were wide for a moment as he mentally processed the shock from the shirt hitting him in the chest. He was quiet for a moment as I stared at him, hands on my hips waiting for his response.

“Yeah, I’m in,” he shrugged as a playful smile grew on his lips. We both quickly shed the rest of our clothes before we were left standing with him in his briefs and me in my underwear. Thank the gods that I chose cute underwear today. We both stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, I had to try very hard to not openly gawk at his abs. Damn, he is gorgeous.

After taking in all of his beauty, a sly smile crept onto my face. “Race ya,” I shouted without warning as I took off for the water. Jack chased after me as I shot across the grass and to the wooden dock. I should’ve known he would be faster than me, I thought as he quickly caught up to me. He grabbed me around the waist, lifting me off the ground to spin me around. I couldn’t help the fit of laughter that spread through me as Jack twirled around while I was safely in his arms. “Jack, put me down,” I playfully smacked his shoulder as he carried me towards the edge of the dock.

A mischievous smile crept onto his lips that let me know that it was payback time. “Put you down? Are you sure?” He taunted as he held me over the water. I clung to him tightly as nerves spread through my body. He better not.

“Jacky don’t!” I pleaded as he swung me over the water haphazardly. He was obviously having a good time with this, laughing as I clung to him like a fearful koala bear. “Jacky please!” I begged.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” his voice dripped with sarcasm as he set me down on my two feet. I instantly stepped out of his hold and crossed my arms over my chest, inadvertently pushing my boobs up which caught Jack’s attention. Smirking as I noticed his distraction I quickly shifted all my weight forward and shoved him off the dock; I knew it was deep enough to be safe, having jumped off this dock my whole life.

“Shit!” he cried out as he stumbled backwards into the water, fully submerging beneath the surface. He emerged within seconds, a pouty look forming on his face. “That wasn’t very nice,” he whined. I chuckled, crouching to my knees to lean over the edge of the dock.

“Sorry Jacky,” I mirrored his pout. Before I knew what hit me, he smacked his arms against the water to splash me. Letting out a small scream as the cold water hit my skin, “meany,” I pouted.

“Sorry babe,” he teased but I didn’t care. Hearing the pet name shot butterflies to my heart and maybe elsewhere. He reached his hand out for me, which I naively assumed was to pull him out of the water. Using all of his strength, he pulled me off the dock and into the water as I crashed into him. Pushing my hair out of my eyes and sputtering water as I emerged from the surface, I gave him a playful shove.

“I can’t believe you did that,” I huffed as I sent some water splashing his way.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” he said between fits of laughter.

“Oh yeah, very funny,” I scoffed as I treaded water. “I thought you liked me,” mock sadness filled my voice.

“Babe, I like you, like a lot,” Jack commented as he swam closer to me, catching me with his arm and pulling me to his firm muscular body. My hands rested on his bare chest as I felt the butterflies once more. There we were staring into each other’s eyes on a beautiful summer day in the water. I couldn’t help but feel this wouldn’t be the last time this happened.

“I like you alot too,” I smiled softly. “But only if you stop splashing me,” I followed up quickly as I traced random shapes on his chest.

“Deal,” he snickered. We spent the better part of an hour swimming around, laughing, inevitably splashing each other more, and drying off in the sun on the dock. Our conversations continued to get deeper as we surpassed the surface level aspects of getting to know each other. He listened intently while I explained why I wanted a career where I could help people. I couldn’t hide my smile as he described having his dreams come true when he was drafted, hockey clearly brought him so much joy. We spent time discussing different sports we loved playing, and even more importantly, the sports teams we loved watching.

Our conversation never died down or got boring, I never want this date to end. After a while, my stomach started to grumble. I decided it was better to get started on supper before I got hangry as I shifted from Jack’s arms and pulled myself to my feet. Offering my hand to him to help him up, “how do you feel about steak?” I asked once he was on his feet towering over me once again.

“Like you might be my dream girl,” he smiled as we wrapped our arms around each other and walked off the dock together.

“Good, I might need your help with the broccoli though. It’s pretty tricky,” I joked sarcastically knowing it would get a rise out of Jack. Jack stopped dead in his tracks, stopping me with him.

“Did Nico tell you about that?” his voice was full of embarrassment. I smiled and leaned into him, wrapping my other arm around his waist as I nodded.

“I think it’s cute though,” I reassured him as he let out a sigh of relief as we stopped to collect our clothes before heading inside.

Once we were back in comfortable dry clothing, we got started on supper. Jack was surprisingly helpful in the kitchen, washing the lettuce and putting together a salad with my guidance. He was incredibly impressed that I could work a grill as well as I could and gave me endless compliments on my steak. Even joking that I needed to come live in Jersey to cook for him during the season. The dinner conversation was comfortable as we chatted about my plans for my final year of school, my tattoos, what it’s like to travel so much in the league, and our surprising shared love for fantasy football. Jack very passionately described all the fantasy leagues he is in while he cleaned up the whole meal. He insisted I sit down while he washed the dishes because I cooked such an amazing meal.

“A man who does chores, you truly know the way to my heart,” I joked as he topped up my glass of wine and started cleaning.

When everything was dried and put away, I felt dread seep through me, not wanting the night to end. I suggested we go sit on the dock to watch the sun set, an opportunity that Jack eagerly jumped on. So we dragged deck chairs down to the dock and comfortably settled in as the sun made way for the stars.

We sat in comfortable silence, my feet dangling in Jack's lap as he traced shapes on my ankles over some of my tattoos. He broke the silence first, “This connection is crazy.”

“Hmm,” I hummed as I tore my gaze away from the sun setting on the water to pay attention to Jack.

“The connection between us,” he reiterated. “I don’t know how you feel, but it feels strong to me,” he commented as his hands stilled on my legs. His gaze was soft, reassuring.

“I feel it too, feels like we’ve known each other way longer,” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear as I leaned back in my chair. “I feel comfortable with you.”

“Me too,” he smiled while giving my leg a little pinch, maybe to reassure me. I have never felt so comfortable with a man this quickly, not in any of my past relationships. It feels like there is this force pulling Jack and I closer, it’s what’s made our connection so strong. This feels so different for me, maybe he’s different from the other guys. I have a feeling he is. “Kira?” Jack’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts as I let out a shaky breath. “You okay?”

Nodding silently, I try to muster up whatever courage I have within myself. “I was nervous today,” I start, Jack nods encouraging me to continue. “I was nervous because…” I pause for a moment and take a deep breath. Jack pulls me from my chair and into his lap, his arms feel like home. “Well, my last relationship ended quite badly. He really hurt me, I think intentionally and it’s just…just hard for me to open up to people,” letting out a shaky sigh as the words tumble out of me. It feels freeing actually, getting all that out, so it isn’t a secret looming over me.

Jack shifts me in his lap so I can meet his eyes, “I don’t know what happened in your last relationship, but Kira, I promise you I will never do anything to intentionally hurt you,” his words pierced my soul as his thumb grazed my cheek. “I can’t guarantee I won’t fuck up sometimes, but I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”

His eyes were locked on mine as I melted into his touch. “I know you will Jacky, I feel comfortable around you,” my voice is small as my eyes break from his and dart to his lips. He seems to pick up on my gesture as he takes my face in his hands.

“Can I kiss you?” Jack asks gently. I bite down on my lip to try to hide my smile as I nod my head. Time stops as Jack leans down to connect his lips to mine, his lips are warm against my own as they move in unison. Jack’s tongue ran across my own as I granted him entrance; he tastes sweet, like the wine we were sharing earlier. Our lips locked for a while before we both pulled away for air, huffing as we did so.

“That was…” I trailed off, resting my forehead against Jack’s.

“Pretty damn amazing,” Jack finished my sentence. We stayed like that for a while, foreheads resting on one another; the sunset in the distance long forgotten.

“You know,” Jack’s voice broke through the comfortable silence. “You got to plan our first date, it was cool to see your favorite spots,” his breath tickled my skin as we remained close.

“I’m glad you liked it,” I smiled as I pecked his lips gently.

“This just means that I need to plan a date where I show you my favorite spots in Michigan,” he smiled as a playful energy danced through his eyes.

“Bold of you to assume there will be a second date,” I teased. Jack threw his head back in laughter, enjoying the playful jokes we were already comfortable sharing.

“If you’ll have me,” he pouted jokingly.

“Oh I guess, if I must,” I mocked, unable to hide my smile.

“If you must,” Jack scoffed as he brought his lips back down to mine. Resuming our passionate makeout session, pulling away a few minutes later we were both panting like teenagers with no stamina.

“Okay, fine. I’ll go on another date with you,” I commented as our lips were still attached.

Jack smirked against my lips, “Good, glad I could convince you.”

“You are very convincing,” I said before pulling him in for more. We spent the rest of the night kissing and cuddling underneath the stars, enjoying each other’s company and growing closer than I ever imagined.

It’s hard to believe this was only our first date, everything is so comfortable between us. Feeling hopeful that there would be another date with the gorgeous hockey player, I can finally smile when thinking about meeting someone when I least expect it. Jack truly came into my life when I didn’t expect it and I hope that he’s here to stay.

#jack hughes #my writing #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes fic #nhl imagine #nhl #nhl hockey #hockey #nj devils #new jersey devils

143 notes · View notes

noirscript · 3 months

Text

YANDERE ALPHABET

featuring: Xavier Veluxe

note: this covers A-J for now! let me know if you want to read more from him or the other ocs in this blog. as always, feedbacks are always appreciated! enjoy!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He's more than willing to give everything in the world that you desire. Sometimes, you won't even need to say a word. You'll be surprised by the amount of gifts you receive from him. Whether you truly desire them or not. Just don't let him see you with another man. Of course, unless you want to receive some... trinkets.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

You're doing the world a favor when you accepted his job offer. You'll be at home for the entire day, waiting for him to come home—like the perfect partner that you are.

Well, of course, unless you really insisted to step out of his house to 'buy' some things. Don't even think about escaping his grasp because you wouldn't want to see the consequences of your actions.

You've seen it happen once... as far as you know.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

It is safe to say that Xavier is almost every ladies' dream man. He got the looks, the wealth, and the power to make everything move in your favor. He's the perfect gentleman. Unless, of course, somebody needs to be taught some lesson.

Also... you weren't abducted per se. You agreed and signed those documents. It's not his fault that you didn't read the fine print thoroughly.

But that's okay. He understands. He still loves you despite all your flaws. (Yes, he would subtly mock you, but some times, you wouldn't even notice it.)

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

You'll never be able to forget your first time with him. How could you forget something you can't even remember?

Xavier could do the worst things you could ever imagine. He wouldn't want you to hate him. Besides, he's just preparing you for that time–the moment you'll finally embrace your role as his lifetime partner.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Although his actions could be extreme, he would never—unintentionally—lie to you. In his mind, winning your trust is almost synonymous with a lasting relationship. He'll bare his heart to you and would never be afraid to hide what he feels towards you. He doesn't care about how you response to him. At least, he let you know about his feelings.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

You better hope that he wasn't able to gather any further information about you and those who used to live around you prior to his manipulation. Xavier would use anyone in his disposal to keep you in check.

Oh, and do you remember that friend of yours? Ever wonder what happened to them and their family? Yeah, thought so.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Xavier never views your relationship as a mere game. He didn't spend all those time and resources just to lose you. In fact, it's actually quite the opposite. It'll be too late for you to escape his grasp by the time you realized that you're trapped for a very long time.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

He's a master manipulator. There would be instances where you're becoming conscious of your surroundings. You would somehow feel some things happening to you, but by the time you wake up everything is in place. It made you feel as if you were only having a very vivid wet dream with someone. But maybe next time, you could check out the trash before burning them. Maybe you'd finally realize what's happening around you.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Xavier is an odd one. He dreamt of having children first before seeing some visions of you two tying the knot. In his mindset, those tiny versions of you and him is more capable of binding you to him permanently. He dreams of showing you off to everyone.

If only you were obedient at all times.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

The mildest thing that he did when he got jealous was sending his object of jealousy thousands of miles aways from where you live. The worst? He'll do something he'll probably regret the following day. Or not.

Luckily, you weren't doing anything that would make him lose his trust towards you.

RELATED LINKS

Yandere!Heir HCs

Eclipsed Affliction

#yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x unwilling darling #yandere x you #yandere male x reader #yandere male x unwilling reader #yandere alphabet #yandere oc #yandere #yancore #yandere imagines #dead dove do not eat #yandere blog #tw.dark content #oc: xavier veluxe

86 notes · View notes

thefrogdalorian · 4 months

Text

Dincember Day 21: Love

Word Count: 2362 Rating: General Summary: Despite how much time you have been spending with Din and getting to know him, you are still none the wiser as to whether your feelings for him are reciprocated. But an impromptu night of stargazing leads to a confession that may just change everything for the two of you... Content Warnings: None! Author's Note: Obsessed with the mental image of Din being a dork and saying wizard if you ever told him you loved him! The scene in Barbie where Ken leaves to shout "SUBLIME!" yep... I could imagine Din doing something similar. Also a bit of a prequel to this whole Dincember universe I am creating. I may run with this in future and turn reader into an OC because I really love writing a dynamic like this! Hope you enjoyed this one!

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

It had been such a draining day at work that the only thing keeping you sane was the knowledge that you had plans that evening to visit Din in his little cabin and spend some quality time with him and Grogu. One might expect that doing archival work on Nevarro was a pretty low-stress job but it seemed that today, every single last one of your colleagues had come to you with some demand or other. Half the time, you expected they were doing it purely to get a rise out of you and test your patience. You were, after all, the newest member of the team.

Mercifully, it was finally the end of the day. As you made your way out of the building, you realised how exhausted you were. Your limbs felt heavy, as though all energy had been sapped out of you. If it weren’t for the date you had arranged with Din, you would probably have had a scalding hot sonic shower before clambering into your cot, hiding behind thick blankets from the world.

But that wasn’t to be the case. There was a certain Mandalorian whom you were very fond of awaiting your arrival. Given Din’s adherence to the Creed, there were a somewhat limited number of ways for the two of you to spend time together, that did not mean his inability to remove his helmet was an issue. The two of you often went for strolls around Nevarro; Din would sometimes meet you after work or on a day off and the two of you would hit the market. You sometimes wished that you could take him to your favourite eateries and cantinas to feast and drink the evening away, and enjoy time with him there. But you were growing so close to him that you almost forgot you had never seen his face.

It was strange, really. You knew that a face should be such a large part of getting to know who a person was. After all, a face comprised many elements that made a person who they were. You had always heard phrases like ‘eyes are a window to the soul,' with no previous reason to question their validity. But now you felt that you perfectly understood the man Din was, despite having never set eyes upon his face. From the moment you had met Din, you felt instantly drawn to him. You felt safe and comfortable in his presence almost immediately which was rare for you, especially after seeing the way he cared for Grogu. Yet, there was so much about Din that remained a mystery to you.

Despite the sides of Din that you were yet to see, you knew unquestionably that you were falling in love with him. From the moment you had met him, you felt as though any second spent without him was torturous. His deep voice and comforting presence were always the last things on your mind at night. Din was the first person you thought of when you woke up. Being with him, regardless of where you were or what you were doing, was exhilarating. As was any time you communicated on your comlinks, his messages usually left you grinning broadly. Plus, it was thoughts of seeing Din and Grogu that saw you through your most hectic, draining days. Just like today.

Yet, you still had no idea whether he felt the same way about you. Did he merely view you as a good friend, or was there any possibility that he loved you, too?

You had no idea if Din was even permitted to feel love as part of his Creed, or if he could, whether he could love someone who was not Mandalorian. You could not imagine that he was prejudiced against those who were not Mandalorian. You had certainly never felt such coldness from him or seen anything that indicated he held such beliefs. But his personal feelings would probably not have mattered, especially given how strict some aspects of the Creed appeared to be.

You were reasonably certain that Din, at the very least, enjoyed spending time with you as much as you did with him. He always made an effort to see you whenever he was back on Nevarro between jobs, and even when work with the New Republic took him away, the two of you kept in regular contact via your comlinks. But you remained unsure to what extent his care for you was borne out of a desire to ensure that the person he had brought to this planet and secured a job for was adjusting... or to what extent it could be evidence of deeper feelings for you.

Feelings like these were confusing and, after the stressful day you had, you had resolved not to spend every single second with Din agonising over whether his every little word or gesture was some subtle clue as to his feelings about you. You knew you should probably gather the courage to ask him for yourself. After all, you could not imagine that a man who seemingly cared for you as deeply as Din did would have an overly negative reaction.

Despite your vow to yourself, your mind was overactive. As you sat playing with Grogu on the floor of the cabin while Din tidied away the dishes from the meal you had just enjoyed together. (Well, almost together. Din had eaten his meal with you in the kitchen, but he sat at the counter rather than joining you and Grogu at the table. He ensured too that your back was turned to him so you did not inadvertently glimpse any part of his face). You could not stop fantasising about evenings like this becoming your everyday life. Living in this cabin with Din and Grogu, enjoying every mealtime and evenings playing with Grogu just like this. You could see it so clearly before you that you almost wanted to cry. It was a cruel game that you were playing with yourself, daring to believe that a man as incredible as Din Djarin could ever love you.

Before those depressing thoughts could continue any longer, though, Din returned from the kitchen. You were instantly brought out of your ruminations at the sound of his approaching footsteps.

“I hope he’s not being too much trouble for you,” Din said as he leaned down to pat Grogu’s head lightly, before he took a seat in front of you on the couch.

“Never,” You shook your head. You genuinely meant it too, you loved spending time with Grogu.

“You’re so good with him,” Din said as he stretched his arms across the back of the couch, his legs spread.

You swallowed. Both his words and the position he was in had moved something deep inside you. “Thank you,” You said quietly, looking down away from Din as you felt the way your cheeks warmed in embarrassment.

The moment passed and you resumed playing with Grogu. You were trying to show him how to stack wooden blocks without using the Force, to improve his dexterity. But there was a certain mischievous side to the little green child and he kept levitating the blocks when he thought you weren’t looking. You were also painfully aware that Din was watching the two of you interact. His unrelenting gaze made you feel incredibly shy.

“I was thinking, after I put Grogu down in his crib, perhaps we could sit outside together so I could show you some of the constellations visible in the sky on Nevarro?” Din said, you thought you detected a hint of nervousness in his usually steady voice. “It gets so dark out here away from some of the lava flats that you can see so much.”

“I’d love that, Din,” You smiled at him.

“Okay,” Din nodded as he stood up from the couch and scooped Grogu into his strong arms. “Time for bed, buddy.”

You stood up and leaned down to kiss Grogu’s wrinkled forehead. “Goodnight, little guy,” You whispered.

You stood back and looked up at Din. Your cheeks were burning once more, as you realised how intimate that gesture had been. In the moment it just felt natural and completely right. Din remained silent, save for the shaky breath he released. You suddenly felt extremely awkward.

“I’ll, um…” You started, “I’ll wait for you outside, Din.”

You turned your back and bolted from the cabin before you could embarrass yourself further by overstepping your mark. You paced up and down anxiously, before folding your arms, looking towards the stars and inhaling deeply the cool air of the Nevarrian night. You knew that you really needed to pull yourself together and have a conversation with Din about your feelings. Feeling constantly on edge like this could not continue. Now that you were slightly more composed, you turned towards the cabin and waited for Din to return.

When Din emerged from the cabin, you noticed two things. Firstly, how he had removed his armour and was wearing form-fitting cotton clothes that accentuated his muscular body. Secondly, he was walking towards you with what appeared to be a blanket, ready for your impromptu stargazing session.

“It gets cold at night,” Din explained when you closed the distance between the two of you and nodded towards the blanket. “Thought we could sit on the bench and put this over us.”

You made your way to the porch and made yourself comfortable on the bench that was scarcely wide enough for two adults, but the two of you made it work. Din was impossibly close, the warmth emanating from his body as the two of you sat pressed up against each other, shoulders, arms and legs all touching. As you sat there, your eyes gradually adjusting to the darkness, you marvelled at how correct Din was. The view of the stars from this area of Nevarro was nothing short of breathtaking; it seemed as though you could see every single star twinkling brightly.

“I forgot to ask earlier, how was your day?” Din asked, finally breaking the companionable silence that the two of you had been enjoying.

“It was…” You paused, struggling to find words. “Not the best,” You eventually added, settling on a diplomatic answer.

“Why? What happened?” Din questioned, concernedly.

“I just feel like all my colleagues hate me. It feels like they want to give me the most difficult, time-consuming tasks possible,” You said honestly. “It feels like everywhere I go, sooner or later, everyone winds up hating me.”

“How could anyone hate you?” Din shook his head incredulously. “I mean… you’re so… amazing. The way you treat Grogu, it makes me so happy that the two of you get on. That’s… important to me,” Din exhaled deeply.

“Thank you, Din,” You said sincerely, appreciating the warmth that his words provoked in you as the sensation spread throughout your body. “And this was a great idea. I can’t believe how clear the stars are here.”

“Oh, that reminds me! I almost forgot!” Din exclaimed as he stood up. “I was going to get some binocs so you could see the stars more clearly. I’ll be right back.”

Din disappeared off into the cabin and you mulled over his words as you awaited his return. He had called you amazing and indicated that having a good relationship with Grogu was important to him. Surely that meant he placed a great deal of importance on your relationship, platonic or otherwise? But before you could ponder it any further, Din emerged with the binocs and stood with his broad back to you, holding them to his T-visor to ensure they functioned. He sighed deeply as he glanced toward the heavens.

“I’ve had my fair share of people out there who hated me too, you know,” Din said, your earlier conversation clearly still weighing on his mind as he turned around to hand the binocs to you.

“Oh, Din,” You sighed, then added without thinking: “I can’t believe anyone would fail to be completely and hopelessly in love with you from the second they met you.”

For a moment you froze. You had just as well admitted how you felt for him, this was never how you had planned for this conversation to go. Although you did not regret finally vocalising your feelings for Din, you had never intended for it to slip out so casually.

“Do you mean that you…you love me?” Din asked quietly, clenching and unclenching his fists that hung at his sides.

“I do,” You said quietly with a firm nod of your head. Your pulse was thundering in your ears as you admitted something that you had been withholding for months.

The vocoder amplified the way Din swallowed thickly. For a brief moment you wished you could see what his face looked like as you awaited his response.

“Wizard,” Din finally said cheerfully, the grin evident in his voice despite the helmet.

You shook your head slightly, in disbelief that his response to such a moment was such a dorky slang word. Despite his appearance, all hulking in his gleaming unpainted Beskar, which probably terrified almost everyone that he encountered, this man was completely different underneath his armour.

“I love you too,” Din finally said.

You stood up from the bench and without thinking, you threw your arms around Din's neck, giddy with the happiness that his confession had provoked within you. Din laughed heartily and brought his arms around your waist.

You were immensely relieved; there would be no more agonising over whether Din loved you too. You now knew unequivocally that he did.

Later, your cheek was resting on Din’s firm chest as the two of you cuddled underneath the thick blankets of his cot. You were relieved that you had finally taken the step and defined the nature of your feelings towards each other. Never again would you doubt how deeply Din cared about you. You buried your head into his warm, broad chest and giggled softly. Remembering that Din loved you caused a warmth throughout your body that confirmed one inescapable fact: you were hopelessly in love.

#dincember 2023 #din djarin #din djarin fluff #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal characters #my fics #i keep wanting to make these around 1k words and always end up writing way more

93 notes · View notes

hangmanssunnies · 1 year

Text

Good Comes In 3

House We Share: Double Tap, Sfumato, Good Comes In 3

Summary: You and Jake navigate what it means to spend six months apart. Then, when he does come home, you two have to evaluate precisely what feelings you have for each other and also what a future together could mean. You just aren't sure he will ever forgive you for starting a puzzle without him.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem! Civilian! Reader, minor Javy "Coyote" Machado x OC

Word count: 34K

AO3 Link

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Abuse (Implied), Slow burn, routines and compulsions, Jigsaw puzzles, Rejection, Drinking, Arguments, Yearning, Deployment, communication, Fertility problems, miscarriage (discussed), menstruation (discussed and lightly described), close female friendships, Depressive episodes, PTSD, roommates to lovers, love confessions, hyper-specific!Jake, Neurodivergent coded! Jake. Please let me know if I missed any for this part; I know it is a long one.

An: Unfortunately, this last part was too long to post altogether here on Tumblr. So I have included the first half here, the rest can be read on AO3 though. My first reblog of this here on Tumblr has the other half as well. I apologize for the inconvenience.

Thank you for taking this journey with me. Thank you all for loving this version of Jake. There were so many things I wanted to include and finish off for these two. While I couldn't include everything, I hope you enjoy what I did.

Thank you so much if you take a chance to read this work. I hope you enjoy it. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

"Jake looked tired. Has he told you how he's been sleeping?" Marlee asks you curiously while chatting with you on the phone. The question causes your stomach to roll in a deep dive, and it takes you a moment to find the composure to respond.

"No, I haven't heard," you manage to tell her. Setting down the piece of fruit you had been about to eat, you lean back against the kitchen counter.

"Ah, well, will you ask him about it whenever you next talk? He wouldn't answer Javy or me about it when we asked."

"You and Javy are joined at the hip, practically the same person sometimes. Do you find that shocking?" You ask Marlee teasingly. Marlee chuckles at your comment. Her smile betrays her true feelings, though she likes how in sync she and Javy are generally considered.

"We are sometimes." Marlee concedes but then says frankly, "But even when Javy had his individual call with Jake, he wouldn't say. And you are the only other person I can imagine him opening up to,"

"I'll mention it next time I talk to him," you manage to say. It would just be one of the many things that you were supposed to be talking to Jake about on his deployment. It was easier to go along with their assumption than to flay your chest open and let the hurt you felt pour out.

Sometimes it's better, easier, to keep the kind of pain you felt to yourself. Bundled close and protected. To expose it would just make it hurt all the more. The idea of anyone, especially your closest friends, knowing you weren't important enough, or you had scared Jake away, or made some other mishap was mortifying. How could you go about explaining what had transpired? You weren't sure you could explain it. Also, Javy and Marlee had plenty of other things and people to worry about without having to add you higher on their list than you were already placed. You felt bad each week when one of them called you to check in begging, sometimes demanding that you hang out with them.

"Okay, I'll talk to you later then, babes. I love you!"

"I love you too, Marlee," you say, giving her the sweetest, kindest tone you can muster up. You end the call and walk over to the chalkboard in the kitchen.

Jake normally would draw seasonal decorations on it, but you had cleared it to be blank for notes months ago. The only thing on the board is a list you had titled: things to talk to Jake about. You add 'sleeping habits' to the bottom and frown. Reading through the list makes tears prick at the back of your eyes, and a lump forms in your throat. You hold the eraser poised for a moment, ready to trash the entire list, but you don't manage to follow through and drop the eraser, letting it fall to the ground.

You walk through the house, checking the locks and turning off the lights. The sadness and frustration you feel in you is still bubbling as you pass where Jake had unceremoniously left the large Juniper chest. You glare at it just like you do every night.

The morning Jake left, he'd woken you up with his thumb tracing your pulse point. His soft mostly lidded eyes trained on you, neither of you said anything just laying there quietly memorizing the moment. Neither of you could bear to get up until after the third alarm rang. The sun still hadn't crested the horizon when Jake went to shower. While he was occupied you stole one of his large Navy shirts that had been washed so many times it was soft. You are reluctant to leave his room, but make your way to the kitchen starting some breakfast and Jake's morning tea. You were just adding the dollop of honey he likes when he came downstairs, fully dressed and ready to leave you.

Jake thanked you sweetly, with a kiss pressed to your cheek. In the same breath he tried to steal the whisk out of your hand. You danced out of way holding the whisk out like a sword to ward him off. He had quickly grabbed the masher from the utensil jar and brandished it in response. Amusement filling his features. After a small chase around the kitchen which included a small clash of utensils, Jake got his way. You loved the way Jake's eyes crinkled and how charming his dimples and smile lines were. It was a look you almost always got anytime you let him do things for you. Jake had still let you help though, asking you to toast the sourdough bread, while he whipped the avocado, goat cheese, and honey together. Once it was the constituency he liked, Jake spread it on the toast sprinkling some sea salt on top. He made one for you as well, but you had already started cooking three eggs for him, and didn't really have an appetite. After Jake ate, you spent every minute waiting for Coyote to arrive for pick up wrapped tightly in Jake's arms.

"There is one last thing I need before I go," Jake had said.

"I can't give it to you this time," you said muffled, trying hard not to cry on his whites.

"Just one smile." Jake pleaded with his large warm hand lifting your chin so he could stare at you intently again.

"No, Jake." He frowned at your answer, eyebrows pulling tight together.

"I suppose I've reached my limit on things I can take from you." Jake puffed out with a quiet sigh. The tip of Jake's nose had dragged softly across your forehead before pressing a soft kiss to the center. He lingered there, breathing you in.

"Thank you for everything, my sweet," Jake whispered quietly.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you tried to pull him as close and tight to you as possible again. Jake allowed you to hug him, but he didn't relax into the embrace like he normally would have. He was almost stiff in your hold, but one of his hands traced slowly over your back in a soothing motion. When Coyote's headlights had inevitably shown through the frosted window on the door, Jake carefully detangled himself from your arms. He lingered though practically trembling.

"I can't do it," Jake whispered, leaving his forehead pressed to yours.

"It's not optional, and there isn't anything Hangman can't do. Let alone something you've done before," you reassured him. It didn't seem to work as he tensed up more.

"Promise me you'll be okay," Jake had begged you. You had nodded yes in response, saying the word would have tasted too close to a lie. Jake's nose nudged yours and he asked again. The second time was much closer to a desperate demand, "promise me."

"If you be safe," you had compromised, wanting to savor every second ticking by that you would never get back. This last time you would be in the same space sharing the same air, for an undetermined amount of time. With a resolve you knew you didn't possess, Jake mouthed the words goodbye he was so close that his lips brushed yours as he did so. With a shaky inhale, Jake stepped away from you. His first two steps hadn't hurt so much, but the third as he exited the front door took all the air with him, including the bit trapped in your lungs. It was a sense of instant emptiness you had never experienced before. Everything you wanted to do seemed impossible when you couldn't even breathe. So there was no running after him for one more stolen moment, no collapsing against the floor, sobbing until your throat was raw, no more reassuring green eyes you could look to for comfort.

The hollow feeling that nestled into you was hard to find your balance with. You had thrown the lock on the door and stumbled through the house, ready to retreat back into Jake's bed. Well aware his scent would be gone sooner rather than later, you were determined to imprint as much of it to memory as possible. You are blindsided by pain shooting up your foot as you unexpectedly stubbed your toe. Cursing and looking down you realized there was now a new piece of furniture. Jake had left a hand made juniper chest Jake left sitting in the area between the living room and dining room. On top was a small note card with a watercolor of two very detailed puzzle pieces.

You stare so hard at the water colored pieces trying to parse their meaning the focus of your visions started to blur. The rapid blink forced tears to lubricate the area. However, when there is one tear there are others quick to follow. Just as a tear had splashed against the edge of the card you recognized the duplicates of the last two pieces you and Jake had double tapped into your last puzzle. On the back of the card stock was the drawn design of the chest, with all of Jake's neat measurements noted. You traced over his neat handwriting, and you were quick to quell your disappointment not finding more. That confusion and disappointment was impossible to ignore when you had gone to see what was inside and it was locked, the latch refusing to open.

Now, after 6 and ½ months of radio silence, the chest taunted you. His entire deployment, there hadn't been a single word to you. Your only source of information was occasionally hearing from Coyote and Marlee about how Hangman was doing. And there was the memory of him, a large empty house, and a locked chest that was too heavy for you to move.

You kick the side of the chest as you walk past it. It has become a tradition for you – this small abuse of the furniture while pacing before bed was a small soothing habit that helped you work some of your worries out. Once the feeling of missing Jake had settled into a dull, steady pain there was room for anger. You were furious and the only thing you had to take it out on was this beautiful work of craftsmanship. Unshockingly, the chest had been well made – because why would Jake make something that was easy to take your anger out on. He couldn't even give you that small concession. Even though you aren't as angry anymore, kicking the chest has become a part of your nightly routine.

The chest didn't just bother you because it was locked or a surprise gift you hadn't asked for. It also bothered you because of what it was made from. The juniper wood Jake used didn't match the boards he used for the puzzle table, which was a more common light juniper. The boards for the chest were such a deep red it looked purple. Jake made it from one of the logs that you had helped him strip. Seeing the chest felt like a reopening weeping sore; one bleeding from a formally treasured memory that was nestled close to your heart.

…

Saturday mornings were always a wild card with Jake.It was the one day of the week you could never be 100% sure what his plans were. There were staples you could expect like his morning run, but after that who knew? Sometimes he would have plans to see his friends, other times he had a project, list of chores, plans with his "little brother", manuals to read or some other all day activity. He liked it to be all day. So Sometimes you liked to just lounge in the living room waiting to see what he was going to do before making any plans of your own.

"Hey, I'm going on a drive and run some errands. Anything you want me to pick up?" Jake says to you when he comes down the stairs one Saturday morning.

"Oh, can I come with?"

"Sure, if you want. It's going to be boring though," Jake warns you.

"No, it won't," You protest, standing up and stretching. "I'd rather be with you. As long as you don't mind me tagging along?"

"Yeah, of course, sugar. I never mind when you tag along." Jake says with a wide smile.

"Well, what's the errand so I know how to dress?"

"I'm going to meet an old friend."

"Oh my god. Please be less ominous Jake"

"What would you like to hear, sugar?"

"Who exactly are we meeting?"

"We are meeting up with my friend, Jess."

"And?"

"And, and, and," Jake says, twirling his hand around the air before dramatically pointing to his watch. "We are already 4 minutes behind our schedule. I'll tell you right now that this is cutting into our farmers market time." "Farmer's Market is on the list?"

"Of course it is sugar. And so is Target," Jake says in his ‘duh-voice’ that you actually hate, but also you love because it reminds you how easy this is supposed to be. How it's not supposed to be a second thought. The things you like are included and planned for without you having to ask.

You are scrambling up the stairs to get ready when Jake calls after you. "You don't actually have to rush!! I'll make up time on the road."

"You know I don't support your excessive speeding Jake!" you call back, grabbing what you thought you would need.

"Bring socks for your heavy boots!" When you make it back downstairs Jake is tapping his pen aggressively against a notepad.

"What am I going to need boots for?" You ask him suspiciously while going through your items.

"Do you want car snacks? I packed some, and we can always stop to pick something else up." Jake asks you glancing up from his paper.

"We don't have to have snacks; I know you don't like eating in the truck."

Jake just shrugs and opens the door to the garage for you. "It's not a big deal, I'll add the car wash to my list for tomorrow."

"I also got your truck slippers so you don't have to wear your boots for the drive," Jake tells you. It's so sweet you want to grab him in a tight hug. You squeeze your hands tight instead, waiting for the urge to pass. Jake helps you up into the passenger side of the truck. Just as he said, the soft fuzzy blanket you like, and the slippers Jake got you are laid out waiting. Jake helps you out of your boots and into the slippers, setting them in the back seat for later. Once you are fully settled and buckled, Jake closes your door. He checks that the garage door is locked before jumping in the truck himself.

"Was I quick enough for you not to aggressively speed?" you ask when Jake gets into the driver's side and checks his mirrors.

"I would hardly call it speeding," Jake complains.

"It's a number above the speed limit sign. Therefore, it's speeding." You say, explaining it.

"I literally fly ten times as fast as car speeds. Well, more like 9.9 but still when you round up. It's ten." Jake responds,

"That is no excuse to be going 120 miles an hour, Jake." You say while rolling your eyes.

"I'm just saying. I am perfectly capable of controlling a fast vehicle," he argues.

"That's fine, and I am not invalidating that. However, you know just as well as I do, that everyone else doesn't have that same ability."

"You are so sassy!" Jake teases, clearly deciding to let the faux argument go.

"I'm the sassy one? Sure," you say sarcastically, drawing out the word. However, you also decide to let it go. Instead you enjoy the start to your drive, getting music going and adjusting the temperature controls until they are just right.

"So," you say after a bit, drawing out the word. "What are we driving to do?"

"It's nothing," Jake responds with a shrug.

"Really? Nothing is the justification to wear the work boots you got me?"

"You can't live with a bit of mystery, can you?" Jake asks, but there is affection laid into his words.

"No," You concede with a joking sigh, "which is what makes you so infuriating sometimes."

"I do strive to live as a man of mystery," Jake says amused.

"Oh really, is that what your next move is? Retire, so you can become an American James Bond?" You tease him.

"I'll admit it. You got me figured out. What gave it away?" Jake asks jokingly but not as quiet as bright as before. You shoot him a look, but his smile is still firmly in place.

"Honestly?" You ask him hesitantly.

"Yes Ma'am. They do say honesty is the best policy."

"It's the fact that you refuse to grow facial hair. I'm convinced that it's because you want to save that for a disguise." You say, almost giggling trying to picture Jake with a beard or mustache. You expect Jake to laugh too, but he doesn't. After a slightly too long pause, he forces out a strangled laugh, and you realize that you've misstepped somehow.

"Talk about it or leave it?" You offer trying to sound natural and keeping the pushiness you felt gnawing on you out of your voice. Jake takes a deep measured breath, exhaling out slowly through his nose. He drums a staccato on the steering wheel before responding.

"Can we leave it please?" Jake eventually requests.

"Facial hair or James Bond?" You ask, wanting to clarify.

"Both, please."

"Can do."

"Thank you," Jake breathes quietly. Then he offers his right hand to you across the center console. You only wait a moment before slipping your fingers to slot in with his. He squeezes your hand affectionately and you both seem to take a deep breath to try and ease some of the uncomfortable tension. Jake's thumb tracing softly against your skin.

"I'll tell you if you really want to know," Jake says a few miles later while his eyes stay trained on the road. You think about whether you really want to press him for details. As much as you want to know, you don't want to ever force Jake into sharing something with you if he isn't completely comfortable with it.

"Nope, it's fine. Keep your mysteries, Hangman, I'll find out eventually." You finally respond, pulling Jake's hand up to press a kiss to the back of it, making sure he understood your innocent intentions. He chuckles good naturedly and his hand flexes at the movement, tightening its grasp on yours when you set them on the middle console again.

"That's good. I appreciate you."

"I appreciate you more," you tell him sweetly, though you mean it very genuinely. Jake pulls his eyes from the road to flash a heavy frown of disapproval your way.

"I don't think that's possible," Jake says with passion.

You just shrug, letting the conversation drift to the next topic, just enjoying the drive with Jake. It is a while before Jake pulls off onto a private road that leads up to a massive barn, and you still don't really have any clue where you are or why. Jake throws the gear into park, the truck in park and shoots you an almost gleeful smile.

"Jake, where are we?" You ask him again.

"Just my friend's place," he answers.Then,while reaching over and patting your cheek affectionately, says, "You, my sweet, can stay here."

"Do I have to stay?" You ask him nervously, checking the mirrors on either side of you. You know once Jake leaves the truck and into the barn you won't be able to see him anymore. The idea of being alone here, somewhere you don't know, even in the truck makes you uncomfortable.

"I just didn't want you to have to walk through all the mud," Jake says.

"It's okay," you tell him reassuringly. "That's why you had me bring my boots, right?"

"Yes, but you just look snug as a bug. I didn't want to make you move," Jake replies.

"I don't mind, it will be nice to get out of the car. And I want to meet your friend."

A moment later Jake is opening your side of the truck and helping you into your boots, tying up the laces for you and ignoring your protests that you are perfectly capable of doing that yourself. Jake helps you out of the truck and holds your hand, helping you walk over the uneven ground carefully. You can smell it before you see it. The fresh woodsy scent permeates the air so heavily that you can nearly taste it.

Subverting your expectations, Jake does not lead you to the large frame equipment sliding doors of the barn. Instead, he leads you around the nearest side where there is a small typical sized door. Opening the door, Jake reveals a huge workshop. Half of the large barn space is filled with massive logs, planks, boards, and other cuts of wood. The other half is full of various projects, a giant tool bench, and shelving making up an impressive workspace.

"Oh wow," you breathe taking it all in. You look at Jake and he is positively gleeful, maybe even more excited than a kid in a candy shop. His grin is wide, looking around and leading you a bit further into the workspace. A soft Jingle plays in the air, penetrating the otherwise quiet atmosphere when Jake closes the door behind you.

"Seresin, that better be you!" A voice calls out from the back of the barn.

"And it if ain't?" Jake calls back playfully.

"Then you should know, I've got a gun I ain't afraid to use, and you're trespassing."

You almost let go of Jake's hand in alarm, but he gives you a squeeze reassuring you. He leads you a little further into the warehouse, and a middle aged woman comes in through one of the open doors.

Jake lets go of your hand to give her a warm hug. She hugs Jake back lightly before pushing him away with a playful shove.

"It's good to see you too, Jess," Jake grumbles, dodging out of the way of her playful punch.

"Hi, I'm Jess. It's nice to meet you." She says turning to you and offers you a warm smile

You introduce yourself a bit shyly, but feel more confident when Jake's hand slips back into yours.

"Have you known this pest for long?" Jess asks you while gesturing to Jake.

"Jess, be nice. I am literally your favorite customer and the son you never had," Jake complains.

"Paula and I were actually very conscious in our choice not to have children, Jake," Jess says, clicking her tongue at him.

Jake pouts and you can't help but giggle a little at the sight. "I've known him for a bit, yes," you respond.

"Well, even if he is annoying, you've found yourself a good man," Jess says. You wait for Jake to correct her. When he doesn't you start to do so yourself but Jess has already changed the subject and started walking to the other side of the warehouse with a gesture for you to follow.

"So, I got them fresh this week. And just like you requested, I'm letting you have the first freshcut pick, even before me." Jess explains to him.

"I knew you loved me," Jake gasps grinning wide. Jess huffs out a breath at Jake but doesn't deny Jake's accusation which just makes Jake grin wider. Y'all walk to a pile of grey logs stacked close to the large barn doors.

They start a conversation that completely goes over your head, something about soil conditions, chain lengths, altitude, sap, and other details you didn't know impacted wood. You take this opportunity to look around the shop, and appreciate all the different types of wood and tools. You have only slightly lost focus when you suddenly realize Jake has said your name and is looking at you expectantly. He quickly picks up that you missed the question though, so he repeats it gently.

"You should pick our first one, Sugar. Juniper was your idea."

"Oh, I just pick one?" You ask looking at all the logs. Besides the fact they were different widths they all looked pretty much the same to you.

"Yes, Ma'am," Jake confirms. He leads you to the ends of the cuts and starts talking about grains, and the potential knots and twists that would be in the wood when you cut into it. Jess leaves y'all to decide, saying she'll go grab her forklift to make getting the selections into Jake's truck easier. Jess declines Jake's offer to drive with a snipe about how he isn't forklift certified. Jake's muttered comeback about how he could be forklift certified if he wanted makes you roar in laughter.

You eventually pick a trunk that overall doesn't look too special, but Jake said it looked like it would be easier to work with because of how sticky the sap was. Jake makes two other selections and also insists on helping Jess get the wood into his truck.

Jess invited you to an early lunch where you met her wife Paula. Paula had clearly been prepared to host and spent the whole meal fawning over Jake. While Jess might deny treating him like a son, Paula certainly leans into it, and you can tell Jake doesn't mind from the glowing smile that stays on his face the whole time you're at their home.

As promised Jake had planned time to stop at the farmers market, and an outlet mall, that included a target, where two do some light shopping. Finally picking up Jake's drycleaning on your way home. It's a fun day, and you were thankful you had decided to tag along.

"So Jake, are these for what I think?" You ask him excitedly when you have finally made it home and he is pulling the logs into the garage.

"It definitely might be. After all, this is fresh Juniper."

You stare at the grey logs of wood with their mossy, splintering bark that has already made a mess in the garage. Examining the wood you try to compare it with the Juniper you have seen in the past.

"I didn't think it was that color," you tell Jake scrunching your eyebrows together in contemplation.

"Well, the wood isn't actually grey, just the bark," Jake explains. You watch as he pulls two pairs of work gloves from the workbench. He jerks the larger pair on, you realize with adoration that he had gotten a pair in your size. Jake doesn't hand the gloves to you, rather just leaves them out as an offering if you are interested in participating. The casual no pressure offering makes your chest warm and stomach flutter. Biting your lip you try to contain the grin threatening to split your face before joining him at the workbench and sliding the gloves on.

Grabbing two chisels, he throws one on his belt. Then he picks up alo with two hammers, hanging both those on his toolbelt as well. You start to get distracted by the way Jake's tool belt sits on his slim hips.

"Yes. Jess managed to expedite it for us in a special order. I'm so excited. You see, in the spring the sap warms up and it runs through the tree so it allows us to do this –" Jake explains to you. He angles the chisel into the bark, working it in. With a controlled hit from the hammer the flat head sinks in a little bit deeper. Wiggling the chisel makes the bark displace, allowing Jake to grab it and pull it downwards. A long section of the bark comes off before splintering and breaking off the log. The action reveals the light colored, bright, 'green' (fresh) wood underneath.

"I can tell you've never experienced stripping before," Jake says cheekily while wiggling his eyebrows at you. You feel a bit amazed at the beautiful gem that's been revealed to you.

"What?" you gasp.

"Stripping is what this process is called," Jake answers while letting out a full bellied laugh, going so far as slapping his own leg. You roll your eyes at him but can't help your smile and excitement on joining in.

"Some people strip wood with a power washer, but I think that's lazy. On top of the laziness, it prematurely ages and strips the wood of its natural oils, color, and saps! If we take our time though, we can get a longer lasting, vibrant cut. It's a lot of work, but I promise it will be worth it in the long run."

Jake takes his chisel and edges it under the bark again. When he pulls the long grey strip of bark gives way with a crunch that sizzles against your ears. Jake continues to slowly peel more away to reveal the fresh color underneath, not pressuring you to join the process at any point.

However when you do ask to help Jake is patient going over the process with you, explaining the best angle to keep the chisel. He provides steady guidance, only leaving you alone in the process when you tell him that you have a handle on what you're doing.

You help Hangman strip one of the logs and just as he had said, it is a slow process. It is however extremely satisfying and lots of fun. He puts on a podcast after consulting you to find one you would both enjoy. At one point you accidentally dig your chisel too far under the bark and feel it sink slightly into the 'green' sap softened wood. Your heart drops, and when you peel it back you see that it has pulled a chunk of wood, leaving a gouge in the trunk. You freeze, noticing the damage of the mistake, pulling your eyes to where Jake is working. Just as you start to wonder if there could be a way to fix or hide your mistake, Jake looks over at you with a wide smile that crinkles around his eyes.

"Oh wow," he gasps, the smile falling. Anxiety claws at your throat, and you instinctively prepare yourself for something bad to happen, every muscle in your body tensing in anticipation. Jake's hand gently pushes yours out of the way and dips over the gouge pushing away some of the sap that was springing from the area. Jake clicks his tongue before saying. "Look at this, sugar"

"I know and–" You are getting ready to spew the best excuse and explanation you can think of before Jake interrupts you.

"I've seen this color juniper, at least not in person" Jake tells you breathily. You are momentarily surprised that his words do not contain any anger, veiled insults, or condescending tones. Then you remember that this is Jake, so of course you're not going to 'be in trouble'. It takes your eyes a moment to drop down to the thick trunk again. Where you had damaged the wood, it revealed a bright purple streak under the top grain.

"It's purple," you say, eyes widening.

"It does look purple does it?" Jake asks excitedly. "That means at the very least that vein will look like that through the trunk. If not all the pigmentation in the grain."

"So, it's not usually purple?" You ask.

"Sometimes red, but not purple. This one was a real treasure find, sugarpie" Jake answers. His grin was so wide you were a little worried about his face. However, before you know it, he is sweeping you in his arms and rocking you playfully while saying, "We are going to have to do something really special with this one."

"Puzzle table," You say as if that was the most obvious answer. That was the whole reason he had gotten all these logs of juniper, after all.

"Yeah, maybe for the puzzle table," Jake says noncommittally, though as he hums you can tell that won't be the case. He kisses your forehead and mutters a thank you.

Jake gives you another thank you, a little while later, once you two have started to work again. "We wouldn't have known about the color until I went to cut planks and then there would have been a lot less I could do to preserve the color."

"I made a mistake, Jake."

"Not all mistakes are bad," he says kindly. "Sometimes they are just something that's meant to happen. They have to happen for us to learn something."

"Says the man who famously never makes mistakes," you grouse back.

"I make mistakes, but unfortunately, like everything I do, it's to the max. Either the best or the worst," he trails off with a shrug.

"Because you refuse to be middling?" You ask him teasingly. You aren't surprised when his sharp elbow playfully taps into your arm, and if you bruise later-- it will be worth it.

"We never should have read and watched Little Women," Jake grumbles. However, his open and light body language make it very clear to you he is being playful. You traced the shape of his dimples with your eyes enjoying the ease they brought to you. They seemed like the perfect place to rest your thumbs on his cheeks. It's nice how Jake comes with a built in guidance system. From his dimples, to the smile lines that will age nicely into kind crows feet all pointing to the freckle-mole by his right eye. You had already mapped out every place you wanted to kiss, given the opportunity.

"You loved them both," you remind Jake.

"Of course I did. It is a heart warming, stunning story. But you don't always have to make fun of how I teared up a little bit." Jake tells you, adopting a frown. Teared up was a bit of a down play on what had happened but you didn't call Jake out on that part. It wasn't a bad thing for men to get emotional and cry.

"I only tease because you were upset about it for the entire next day. Which honestly was so sweet."

"It's not sweet, Sugar." Jake groans.

"Jake, let's not do this dance," you sigh, rolling your eyes at him and turning back to your work on the trunk. You are much more careful now in how you place the chisel under the bark. In the middle of stripping off the next piece the podcast shuts off and some slow country music replaces it.

"Now, Sugar," Jake says in an extra thick southern accent that makes you narrow your eyes. He eases in close to you and pulls the chisel out of your hand sliding it in his tool belt. Unbuckling it Jake sets it on the bench. Coming back to your side he takes your hand, delicately. Jake pulls your work gloves from each finger. Intentional and steady, the pads of his fingers brush against your revealed skin. He tosses the gloves to the side as well, and with your now free hands pulls you closer to him, towards the open space in the middle of the garage.

"What dance exactly don't you want to do?" Jake asks you, starting to sway to the music and encouraging you to join him in the simple steps. Once you do he gleefully spins you in time with the music and draws you back even closer to his chest after.

Blowing out a sigh you melt into his embrace. Dancing with Jake was different than any other man; he was confident and incharge, firm enough with his hold that there wasn't any space for you to really fall out of step with him, but he left enough room so you didn't feel like he was forcefully dragging you through the steps. He was good about taking the worry of thinking about the steps away from you, allowing you to just enjoy the movement and how his broad body felt pressed so close.

"The dance where you try to sell some preposterous lie about not being a good man, and I have to convince you otherwise."

"Ouch," Jake says. You lean back further resisting the hold he has in moving you. Jake doesn't allow the movement though, continuing to step dance to the music guiding you with him.

"I'm sorry, Jake." you say already feeling a little bad.

"No, no. I might have deserved that one," Jake answers, as the song wraps up, and you don't know what to say. He doesn't let go of you though, just adjusts his steps, leads his steps into the next one.

"Let's find a different dance you do like," he says after a bit, shuffling you in his arms. "For example, we know you love the Texas two step."

"Do I?" You ask him with a laugh.

"Yes, ma'am," He responds confidently, not leaving room to contradict him. "How do you feel about salsa though?"

Jake turns you around the open space in the garage, going through dances he knows until you are both laughing. When he suggests cooking dinner and watching Dancing with the Stars for some new ideas you readily and happily agree, especially when he reminds you the logs will still be there tomorrow, and there is no real need to rush since you have at least a week until the sap is too dry to easily strip anymore.

…

"Marlee, your boss isn't going to pass you up for a promotion."

"Well, she might if I'm pregnant," Marlee responds in a small voice that doesn't match her typical outgoing demeanor. You almost drop your phone but manage to keep your grip tight.

"Marlene Machado… First of all, that would be illegal, and we would file a report with HR. And secondly, is there something you are wanting to tell me?"

"No!" Marlee says, "I don't know what you're talking about, me pregnant?! That's crazy talk. Maybe you're the one who's pregnant."

"Okay, honey. Sorry, sorry." You sigh only partly apologetic into the phone.

"No, I'm sorry." She replies in a quiet voice. "But nothing for sure yet."

"That's okay, Marls. It's only been a few months of this new medicine."

"Yeah, well um I guess that leads to my next problem."

"What's that?"

"What are your plans for Saturday?"

"I don't have any plans." You say running through your mental calendar to check.

"Okay, perfect. So, here's what Javy and I are thinking."

"So Javy is involved?" You clarify.

"What? Of course, he is!" Marlee says sounding affronted at even the concept of not including her husband, which makes you almost smile for real.

"Okay, okay," you tell her with a small laugh.

"We'll pick you up. Then we'll carpool to the airport. Don't worry I already made signs. Then we want to take y'all to Olive Garden."

You distantly hear Javy yelling, "When we are there, we are family."

Marlee takes a moment to giggle, "I'll make sure you and Jake drink a bottle of wine. Preferably one each. Trust me, nothing helps with the ‘we haven't seen each other in six months’ awkwardness better than wine. Then we will drive you two home!"

You aren't successful in catching your phone this time and it slams to the ground. You're frozen staring down at it, only managing to shake yourself and pick it up when you hear Marlee saying your name in concern.

"Sorry, the phone slipped. What was that?"

"Oh no, is it okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine," you answer the pit in your stomach growing till it feels like it might swallow you whole.

"You don't need help with anything for tomorrow do you?" Marlee asks worriedly. You take a glance around the house. You had worked hard keeping things orderly and together while Jake had been gone. You knew how worried he was that things would change while he was away. It hadn't been easy and there were a few weeks there when you hadn't been able to keep yourself afloat very well.

"Help with what?" You ask, trying to get her to confirm what you thought you had heard.

"Any cleaning or organizing or any of that. Groceries so you and Jake don't have to go shop. Javy hates going to the store when he comes home. I guess there is something especially frustrating about them," Marlee trails off. You can tell that she is picking up on your off mood, and of course she was. She probably expected you to be ecstatic that Jake was coming home, and maybe you would have been if you had known about it.

You realize there isn't a way out of this so you have to concede a truth to her. You bite your lip and let your eyes frantically comb over the house again before finally whispering. "He hasn't said anything to me… about coming home."

When Marlee answers you can hear she isn't on speakerphone anymore, and asks you quietly, "He hasn't mentioned it at all?"

"Not a word," you respond solemnly.

"I'm sorry for ruining the surprise."

"I'm glad you did. I'll definitely want to clean and shop like you mentioned. And as nice as your plan sounded, maybe not this time. You two are the sweetest ever."

"I still feel bad. Are you sure you don't need help with anything?"

"I'm fine, thank you, Marlee!" You were not fine.

"Wait, babes, I'm worried."

"Don't worry. I'll talk to you later, yeah? I love you!" You hang up the phone and stare at it blankly. Trying to process the new information you had just gotten. Looking around the house you realized you weren't even close to ready for Jake to come home.

You spend all of your free time panicking, cleaning and organizing the house, trying to make sure everything was just perfect for when Jake comes home. You almost had a breakdown when you couldn't remember if the quilt on his bed had been green or dark blue when he left.. The smallest details were haunting you. You had spent nearly an hour working up the courage to erase the chalkboard in the kitchen. Worried that you would forget some of the more important reminders, you erase everything but what you deemed Jake needed to know, like things that had come up concerning the house. It leaves a choppy, oddly spaced list, but you don't think you will have the energy to rewrite it without crying.

You were asleep when Jake came home. Waking up to sounds that are familiar and yet gone enough that they don't sound right, confuses your tired mind before you are startled into wakefulness, fully placing that for the first time in 6 months someone else is cooking in your kitchen. Your alarm is slightly eased when you check your phone and see a text from Marlee.

We're here with a gift, come down stairs as soon as you wake up <3

While you were put at ease knowing some manic axe murderer isn't in your house, you almost feel like you would prefer that to what you now know is waiting for you downstairs. You sit in your room for nearly an hour trying to work out what to do, if you should confront Jake and how to approach it, hoping inspiration or bravery will strike you into moving. It never does though, and instead there is a heavy handed knock on your bedroom door.

Taking a big gulp, not having the strength to find your voice, you slowly creak the door open. You lift your eyes up and unexpectedly find Javy on the other side of the door.

"Hey, sleeping beauty!" Javy says cheerfully. It takes you a few deep breaths to answer from your surprise. You don't know what the look on your face is, but the next thing you know, Javy is sweeping you up into a tight hug. You are frozen though, still strung out on what this must mean, that Jake is home.

"Is he?" You start to ask, but not sure how you actually want to finish the sentence: home, safe, okay, the same. Javy doesn't respond, he just squeezes you harder. You try asking your question again to get an answer. "Is Jake?"

"Hangman is here," Javy finally confirms.

"I thought it was going to be this evening."

"Some of his flights got shifted around at the last minute."

"Oh. And is he..?" You can't finish that question either.

"He will be okay," Javy says lightly.

"Will be? So, that means that he isn't okay now." You grimace, worry flooding your chest that is already so full of hurt.

"It'll all take us some time to readjust and recalibrate. Just don't push him, and more importantly yourself too hard. Okay?" Javy says pulling away from the hug after another squeeze. You nod numbly, not entirely sure you know what he means but it is comforting to know your friend is here.

When you don't make a move to follow Javy towards the door when he starts to retreat he levels you with a concerned look.

"Why do you love Jake?" Javy asks, leaning back against your door.

You open your mouth to protest that you don't love Jake– how can you love someone who willfully hasn't talked to you in 6 months? The words don't come out though, because in spite of it all, you do love him. You love him so much it hurts, and you made that choice even as Jake actively warned you against it. Javy waits patiently for you to respond, which just makes you feel like squirming more.

"I do not see what that has to do with anything," you try to deflect but Coyote frowns at you and shakes his head.

"It's because he makes you feel better than a million bucks right?" Javy presses on with the question.

"Yeah, sometimes." You concede thinking of how it was before Jake left.

"Or like you are the most important thing in the room? More important even than him?"

"Don't know if I love Jake because of that. I think those are just side benefits. I love Jake just by virtue of him being Jake." You say trying to explain how you feel and Javy nods along to your words.

"I get it," he says. You worry your lip and look at the door again, still not sure you can do this.

"It's going to be okay. Marlee and I are here to play interference as long as you two need it. Remembering those things you love about him will help get through the rough patch. He is really worried about doing something wrong."

"What do you mean wrong?"

"I would say he is worried about hurting you." And you had to resist the urge to laugh, because it was already much too late for that. Jake had been hurting you for months now.

"Has something gone wrong before, or is he just scared?"

Javy doesn't answer your question and he avoids your gaze and stares hard at a far wall. "Hangman and I aren't always stationed together."

"Oh, I see."

"You're going to have to give him some grace and time; he will even out, I promise. If it gets too bad you can always call me, okay?" Javy's eyes meet yours again, and he gives you a sad smile. "I love Jake too, you know."

"Yeah, I know you do." You reassure him. "Thanks Coyote, you are a good friend to him, and me too."

Javy is then urging you to finally leave your room, opening the door and gesturing for you to step out. He is asking you to be brave, and it's a lot easier to face your fears when you know someone else is there to help, just in case.

"Hey what's taking so long up there?" Marlee yells up the stairs suspiciously. She must have heard your door open.

"I am once again begging Javy to run away with me." You yell back to her playfully. Giving Javy one last tight hug and a muttered thank you, he strides confidently down the stairs. Anxiety and nerves eat away at your every step leaving a sour taste on your tongue. You keep your eyes trained on the ground, as you descend the stairs, still not ready to actually see Jake.

Instead you keep your eyes trailed on Javy where he has automatically drifted to his wife's side and is already wrapping himself around her and kissing her cheek.

"Well, were you convinced to run away?" Marlee asks her husband, hugging him back, clearly enjoying the joke.

"No Ma'am, not this time," Coyote answers with a laugh.

"I wasn't worried," she tells him. "I know there's only one person you would leave me for."

"I would never leave you," Javy responds, dropping the playfulness from his voice. However, Marlee persists.

"That's not true, we both know if Jake asked, you wouldn't even hesitate." The couple both turn their eyes towards the kitchen, which you realize is where Jake must be. You are frozen on the last step of the stairs, unable to take your eyes off Marlee and Javy, even as they expectantly look back and forth between where you are standing and where he is.

You decide you aren't brave enough, that you can't actually do this. You need to retreat up the stairs into your room and pack all of your things in order to get out of here as soon as possible. Jake was back now, all the responsibility you had to watch and take care of the house was released from your shoulders. Never facing him again seems like the obvious solution, you don't know why you had never considered it before.

"I wouldn't ever ask Javy to run away with me, he snores too much," Jake says. His voice tricks your eyes into looking towards the kitchen. Thinking about Jake Seresin and seeing him are two distinctly different things. He is handsome, Jake always has been handsome, but after so long of not seeing him, it's glaring, breathtaking.

You think you had expected him to change, which doesn't really make sense. Half a year, in the grand scheme of things, really isn't very long. You think maybe his uniform fits him a bit more snugly, that he looks even more fit than before. You weren't prepared… you weren't prepared at all. And now you are stuck because he is looking back at you. Jake blinks at you, and you stare wide eyed, too afraid if your eyes close for even a second he will be gone.

"Hello. Good morning," Jake finally says.

"Hi," you squeak. Then you are finally able to take the last step off the stairs and say, "It's good to see you."

Jake flashes you one of his perfect practiced smiles and a wink. Then he gestures to the bowls and pans in front of him, "I'm making french toast."

You wait a second, having to choke back a sob threatening to bubble in your chest. Then say, "I'm sure that will be good."

Javy and Marlee's analyzing the two of you makes the awkwardness press in harder. Gulping, you try to seem casual about walking towards the kitchen. Jake watches you intently. At the last minute you change your mind and veer down the hallway towards the front door instead.

"Sorry, I just have some errands I need to run," You announce loudly, quickening your step. Fumbling with the locks you burst out the front door, and stand heaving on the front porch. Gripping the railing hard, you lean against it trying to brace yourself.

A minute later you hear the door open, and you close your eyes tight, wishing you had been smart enough to walk further away. There is a slight clunk against the ground and you see a pair of your shoes next to your feet.

"Thought you might need shoes," Jake says quietly. Fuck, this hurt so much more than you though it would. You thought having him home would feel like a relief, not a fresh stab wound. You just shake your head, not sure you can say anything. Jake waits patiently but after several long minutes, he breathes out a quiet sigh.

"Okay. Well. I think I should just apologize and get on with it. I'm sorry, I am so sorry." You can't stop the hitching sob that falls from your throat.

"I know you didn't love back the same way, but I didn't realize you cared so little about me."

"That is an inaccurate statement," Jake protests.

"I don't want us to have a fight Jake." You mumble, nothing about this conversation was making you feel better.

"Well I do. I want us to have a fight, because you should be mad at me. You should be yelling at me and cursing the ground I walk on. You should've burned down this house!" He exclaims, and you can hear his frustration. You open your eyes to find Jake standing stiff and straight next to the slightly ajar front door. Hands clenched tight, Jake was staring at like you were water and he had been stranded in the desert for days, parched. A direct sighting of his green eyes is all it takes to break your resolve.

"I can't be mad at you!" You exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air.

"Why not?" He prods you in a low voice.

"You know exactly why."

Jake huffs, clenching his jaw he glares upwards, away from you.

"You don't have to be this saint you know. You don't have to be this perfectly stable person for me because you feel like that's what I need. Please don't let me get away with hurting you."

"I won't give you the satisfaction," you tell him coldly.

"What?" Jake asks, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

"I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of confirming that you are the bad guy you've convinced yourself you are. So, what would you like me to say instead?"

"I guess I want you to listen to the fact that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for how I left, I'm sorry for how I behaved, I—"

"Are you really sorry for what happened between us?" You ask in a small voice. You lower your eyes to look at the ground, not wanting to be too confrontational.

"Of course I am," he sighs. It's a stab to your heart. You had treasured the long heartbreakingly beautiful evening you had with Jake before he left, and hearing him say he doesn't feel the same is harrowing.

"Are you—" you start to ask but stop yourself. You ball up all the hurt in your chest trying to rationalize and compartmentalize. Realizing this is another one of those times you had to fill in the gaps. It was time you refocused on the realities at hand. There were no promises besides the one you had made. That you would love him regardless, and continuously. Reminding yourself this fact helps, you could be upset after, later. Every moment actually with Jake should be treasured, this was the first moment you were getting with him in how long and of course you had ruined it.

"I'm sorry for every other thing I know I should be, and everything I willfully chose not to know too. I'm sorry, and well I want to go on forever. I want to keep telling you I'm sorry every second. So, I'm sorry. I'll say it a million times more. Like you deserve."

"Jake, stop. Sometimes the more times you say something the cheaper the words have become. So let's keep this one valuable. I'm sorry for pushing, and you've said sorry too. We can move on now."

"I'll just be plain then." He says, though you can tell that the frustration and desperation are still burning hot under his skin.

"Yes, Jake, be plain. That's the best option for us."

"If we step over lines?"

"We say something, stop and talk about it."

"Okay." He agrees, "We have to talk about the other thing now too."

"What thing?" you ask.

"My question, what happened between us." He says as if he hadn't just told you part of him regrets it.

"You asked to be selfish with me Jake, and I said yes. I don't regret that, and I'm not mad about what happened. You had my permission and consent for all of it.'

"I just kept waiting until I knew what I wanted to say, but then I never knew what I wanted to say," he explains.

"Jake, I really…" You sigh and scrub your hand over your face. "Can we not talk about this right now?"

Jake nods silently in response. "Okay, Later, then."

"Sure, like when the Machados aren't listening on the other side of the door." You say loudly looking at the front door that was cracked, having no doubt your friends were being nosey. Not that you really blame them, you probably would have done the same thing.

"Do you still have errands to run?" he asks you. You look out to the street deciding you should at least take a small walk to sort through your thoughts.

"I'm just going to go on a little walk. I'm sure I'll be back by the time breakfast is done," you explain.

"Sounds good, sugar. Can I help you with your shoes?" He asks quietly. The only reason you nod your head yes is because you think you might start crying otherwise.

Jake kneels down and hesitates for a long moment before his large warm hand is on your ankle, helping angle your foot into the shoe. His thumb makes a brushing stroke across the skin before doing the same thing with the other foot. When you get back from your walk, it's awkward. You completely avoid Marlee's attempts to get you to go off and talk with her. Instead, you decide that the best course of action is to pretend that nothing is wrong. You laugh at jokes and ignore how stilted and awkward Jake's conversation is with everyone. Then, after Marlee and Javy linger way too long, before you and Jake finally get them to leave. Once they are out the door and Jake has locked the door behind them, you both let out a sigh of relief. You meet Jake's gaze, both of you offer small smiles. It's the most normal moment you've had all day.

"Welcome back, Jake." You offer tentatively. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I kinda just want to nap," he admits. You part ways at the top of the stairs giving him a strained smile and retreat into your room; Jake's eyes don't leave you until the door is shut firmly in place.

It's much later that night when you hear some loud banging. You shoot out of your room worried, and realize the banging is coming from the other side of Jake's bedroom door. You knock on it firmly but don't hear a response.

You knock again and the banging comes to a stop. You try the door and find it locked.

"Jake, are you okay?" You ask him through the door.

"I'm fine. Thanks," he yells back. You wait but when you don't get anything more, you have no choice but to leave him be and go back to your room. You don't actually even see Jake again until two nights later. You have been able to tell that he is home but Jake is as elusive as a ghost.

You run into him next when you open your door one night to get some water before bed. Jake is standing on the other side, holding two water bottles. Part of you has a hunch that he had been standing there for a while. He looks shocked but a little relieved when he sees you.

"I know I shouldn't be here," Jake starts slowly, taking his gaze off of you and looks down at his feet.

"No, it's okay that you are here," you stutter slightly. "Is there something you need?"

Jake nods his head along with your words, his eyebrows drawing together. Then he holds out a water bottle for you to take. "Can I just be here? Here, with you?"

"Of course, always." You say stepping backwards into your room leaving the door wide open for him. You shuffle to your bed and lift open the blankets ready to welcome him there with you. However, Jake drops the pillow he was holding on the floor nearby and lays down instead.

You want to ask him questions about it but the edge he is on isn't one you want to poke or prod in any direction. While you are still hurt, knowing he is here is safe again, with you is equally as soothing, a small dosage of pain medication.

"There's plenty of room up here with me too, you know." You decide to casually offer just in case.

"It's too soft for me right now."

"I just thought I would offer," you say lightly.

"I can't sleep. It's the worst part. Everything is too quiet and too still and at the same time not quiet or still enough. I think I might go insane." He explains in a low voice.

"What can I do? What do you need?" You ask sympathetically.

"Can we talk about it?" Jake asks hopefully.

"No, Jake. We can't," You sigh and hear him sigh in frustration.

"Someday, at some point, we are going to have to talk about it," Jake says so carefully you know he is consciously holding back the taunting frustration he wants to put into the words.

"No, we really don't," You contradict him.

"Sweets," Jake responds, sounding wrecked.

You think you should give into him again. You should allow Jake to talk his heart out and seek penance from you. How this should be a time when you are strong for him. However, as much as you want to give Jake the world, there must be times that you curl around your own heart to try and shield it from hurt.

"Listen, Jake. I don't need to know why you didn't talk to me while you were gone. No matter what your explanation is, it's going to hurt my feelings. So, I would rather not know. Please, let me pretend something a little kinder."

He is silent, so very quiet for so long you almost wonder if he has left. Evaporated from existence, that he never came home at all, and you've been living an elaborate hallucination. You turn on your side just to check in the soft lamp light that Jake is still laying on the floor.

"You should have said no to me before I left. It would have saved us both a lot of grief I think."

Jake's words feel like a punch in the gut, rattling around like a wrecking ball, leaving a bloody massacre behind. With a heavy blown out breath you say, "No it wouldn't have."

"No, it wouldn't have," he sighs in agreement.

"It would be nice though, if we could go back to before."

"Before?" He asks.

"Yes," you say, clutching your blankets tight. "If I could pretend that you never got orders and didn't leave. I would jump to that in an instant.

"You want to pretend nothing happened?"

"Isn't that an idea?" You huff a small broken laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

"What if I don't remember exactly how things went before?" Jake wonders.

"Jake, I wasn't serious," you say cautiously.

There are several long minutes of silence where you wait for him to say something. Finally, you hear Jake let out a long heavy audible groan while shifting. "If you don't want to talk it out. Pretending is probably our best option then. Otherwise, what are we going to do, sweets?"

"Sugar," You correct automatically.

"Hmm?"

"You usually call me sugar, or honey. Not sweets"

"Ah, that's right, and darling. I got it mixed up because you're so sweet to me."

"I'll help you. If you don't remember how it goes."

"Thank you," he says. And you can't believe he is actually agreeing to this idea, or really that you are either.

"Do you not like sweets?" Jake asks eventually.

"It's fine enough, I guess." You answer as lightly as you can. Then you go through another bout of silence. You nervously play with the edge of a blanket hoping that this tension with Jake will ease. It's always gone away in the past, but that was also before.

"That's what you want then? Tomorrow, we go back?" Jake asks again.

"Yes, tomorrow," You confirm.

"Sugar?

"Yes, Jakers?"

"Can I ask you a question?" He asks. You laugh lightly, feeling a bit of the nervousness ease at his tone which has become much lighter.

"I never understand why people say that. Aren't you already asking a question?" Jake chuckles low in his chest in amusement. He doesn't follow along with the joke though, just leaves it there hanging in the air.

"The answer is yes," you tell him casually.

"You don't know what the question is."

"Yes, you can ask me a question," you clarify in a whisper. Jake makes some rustling sounds and you hear him come closer to you.

"Are you sure that bed is big enough for two?" He asks.

"Why don't we find out?" You laugh feeling more at ease.

With a nod Jake crawls onto bed and turns to face you on his side. However, he doesn't scoot in close like you expect. He is stone still on the other side of the bed, laying on top of the covers, only shifting his pillow once.

"What would you do, if I told you the last time I said yes, it had an extended warranty?" You ask while turning on your side to face where you are in the bed now.

"How long are we talking about here?" Jake asks.

"Unfortunately, I think it expires some time tomorrow." You watch Jake work his lip in contemplation, while examining your face closely.

"Why would you let me be selfish with you again?"

"I think it's because we are selfish. Maybe it's a little bit because I don't want the memory of the last time I tasted you to be bitter."

Jake rolls away from you onto his back, blinking rapidly at the ceiling. "Stop letting me take things from you."

"We both deserve a night where we are selfish with each other, I think." You tell him reaching across the gap between you. You set a hand on Jake's cheek ignoring the prickly stubble there.

"To have you and let you go again the next day would be torture," Jake says all while leaning into your touch.

"Just a kiss this time," you offer, urging him by his cheek to come a little closer to you.

"It was supposed to be just a kiss last time too." Jake's eyes are bright where they burn into yours. He inches a little closer and you lean forwards as well, reducing the gap between you two that much more until there is just a miniscule space now.

"I know," You answer against his lips, letting your hand slip into his hair. Jake's lips move with yours crowding in close, like he is trying to breathe all of you into himself and commit you to memory.

"Maybe, it can be more of a promise?" Jake eventually gasps.

"A promise?" You question.

"A promise not to hurt you like this again," Jake answers.

"That's not an easy promise to keep," you warn.

"That's true, but I'm willing to try anyway." He kisses you again and dips his tongue into your mouth. Jake swallows your little whimpers; he tastes just as good as he always has. It's very easy to be selfish with Jake "Hangman" Seresin.

…

It's a slow road to trying to get back to normal. Jake circles around the house like he is lost. Picking things up and setting them down, starting conversations with you and leaving halfway through them. Shadows stretch across his face and his increasingly dark stubble and facial hair. You are a little surprised to find that he doesn't have a red beard like most blonds do. The facial hair only serves to make him look increasingly gaunt.

Jake even denies your offer to start a puzzle together, telling you that wasn't something he could handle at the moment. You try not to seem like you were watching him like a hawk, but you definitely are. Until one day he stood up from the table in the middle of dinner and announced that he was going camping.

"Oh okay. Do you know how long?"

"Yeah," Jake sighs, "I'll be home before next weekend, and I promise you when I get home I'll be normal again."

"You don't have to be any which way for me Jake," you tell him gently.

"I know, but I need to do this for me too, sugar." He explains while putting away dishes. You watch him complete the task; Jake is antsy even with his hands occupied. None of the projects or tasks he has picked up since being home have been enough to occupy him with real distraction. Two days ago, you had walked into the garage where Jake had rigged up his camping hammock to the ceiling which you felt like he was swaying precariously 8 feet off the ground. On top of that Jake had music blasting, a documentary on Yosemite playing, while also whittling a piece of wood.

"Okay. I'll miss you." You eventually say. Jake purses his lip, and after a heavy gulp he nods his head. Once the last of the dishes is away he spins on his heel and heads towards the garage door.

You hurry after him, "Jake?"

"Yes, sugar?" He asks, not pausing his trajectory.

"Are you leaving right now?" You ask him surprised.

"Yes, I packed earlier today."

"Can I have a hug before you go?" You ask him hesitantly.

Jake freezes. He rubs his hands across his face pressing briefly into his eyes while sighing a very soft "Fuck." Then he turns to you fully looking abashed. "Yeah, sugar. What do you need before I go? I'm sorry I should have asked that first."

"No, it's no big deal. Honestly." You tell him backing off not wanting to be too much. Jake shushes you softly while stepping closer.

"Tell me how it goes. I need to remind myself about this part."

"Well," you start off hesitantly, "normally I would get a hug goodbye."

"Ahh," Jake hums, "that's right. And I do that part like this?" Jake wraps you in his arms, draping them high on your back. You wait a moment before draping your arms around his neck.

"How's the next part going again, sweets?"

"You squeeze my waist a little harder and lower." Jake follows the direction his arms tightening around you drawing you flush against his chest.

"Now?" He whispers.

"You would probably kiss my forehead."

"Just your forehead?" Jake asks breathily.

"I'll leave that one up to you, Jake." He unwraps a hand from your waist to hold the back of your neck, keeping you steady.

"And if I want to kiss somewhere else?"

"You've got my permission Jake," you tell him trying to keep want and desire out of your voice. Jake parts his lips and leans in closer brushing his lips to grace over your cheekbone.

"You can have it, Jake," you remind him.

"No," he answers and closes his eyes. "Not again, not yet. I'll be home in a few days."

Once Jake leaves you know there is something you have to do to help him. It's an idea that gets stuck in your head and then you can't get it out. He had been spending time daily in his hammock in the garage, and you noted that Jake had taken it with him when he left. You missed how he used to casually be in the living room, so you started brainstorming some ideas on how you might entice Jake to join you again.

So, you go to the kitchen and pull out the rolodex, find the card dedicated to Miss Celeste and give it a call. Russell answers the phone, and you can hear the man smiling through the phone as you ask after his wife. It turns out Jake's grandmother is just as blunt but kind hearted as you had been led to believe. After a longer conversation with her, she and Russ offer you some advice and tips

You aren't wholly sure how you managed to get it all done. Eventually having to call Coyote to help you move some of the living room furniture. However, after significantly less sleep than you already get, there is a large comfy hammock in the living room. You and Javy had to sandwich Jake's large comfy chair much closer to the couch than it was previously, but y'all managed to make it all fit.

Jake comes home from camping quietly late one night. The stubble he had been supporting before is a full-on beard now, and his hair is longer than you have ever seen it. This look is intimidating to you in lots of ways, like some mirrored version of Jake that you don't know. He offers. quick hello when he comes in from the garage, breezing past you and towards the stairs.

Jake doesn't make it to the stairs though instead he stands frozen at the edge of the living room for five whole minutes just staring at the hammock. You watch him closely, trying to gauge his reaction.

"It's a surprise for you." You say after the amount of time he is standing there increases to a concerning duration. Compelled to do something you explain, "I know your hammock has been one of the only places you have been able to relax."

"This is very sweet. I appreciate it." Jake starts evenly. It's contradictory as you see him grit his teeth, and his fists clench and unclench at his sides.

"You don't like it?" You ask him.

"It's not that," Jake tries to explain. "It's just you can't randomly switch the living room around and add new furniture like this."

Your mouth drops open in shock. This might be one of the first times Jake has ever told you there is something you can't do in the house. It's jarring, he has always spent so much time tailoring everything to your likes, desires, and aesthetics that you hardly even think about the house as Jake's and Jake's alone anymore. Frustration bubbles under the shock twisting into anger at the situation. You were trying your best, doing all the things you thought you should, and it still didn't seem like enough.

"That is so rich coming from you for so many different reasons Jake." You say agitated, rolling your eyes.

"Why are you upset?" Jake asks you, finally looking away from the living room.

"Why are you upset?" You parrot with emphasis.

"Well, what did you expect? I left for a few days and now there is a hammock in the living room. That's an outdoor item you brought indoors," Jake responds snappily. It pushes you right against an edge that you are unfamiliar with living on now. You had forgotten how it was to live in a hyper aware state, trying to manage and monitor someone else's emotions.

"You act like you haven't done the same thing," you tell him, gesturing frustratedly at the juniper chest. "I was doing something nice for you. However, if you don't like it, I'm sure you're more than capable of taking it down and moving your furniture back and fixing your living room."

You leave Jake in the living room and go to the kitchen. He grumbles to himself upset which makes you feel even more on edge. However, you refuse to let Jake blowing back into the house prevent you from finishing the dishes you had been stacking and putting away.

"It's our living room," he finally calls back to you.

"You aren't acting like it."

"You could have given me some warning," he reasons, but it has a slightly accusatory tone.

"When Jake?" You ask him, upset. "When you called me and told me you were coming home? When you text? How exactly was I supposed to let you know?"

He doesn't have an answer and you slam the door of a cupboard harder than you intend. Inside, the stack of bowls were more precariously placed than you thought. The cupboard closes and bounces back open, the bowls ejecting and crashing hard against the ground. Several of them shatter when they make impact, sending ceramic shards flying across the area.

You aren't expecting the sound to trigger you. It most likely does because of how high strung and worried you already are. The house is such a safe comforting space you don't really have a game plan for when PTSD attacks hit you here. A chill makes its way up your spine, while the sound of shattering glass rings echoing in your ears, for much longer than it echoes in the room. It's all it takes for some flip to switch in your head.

Managing to take small gasping breaths, you try to assess the damage of the sharp ceramic pieces around you, categorizing how many bowls had broken. It doesn't help you to fight off sudden panic that is creeping in when you notice one of the destroyed bowls was one Miss Celeste had made for Jake. It was a soup bowl stamped with a silly song Jake liked to sing anytime he used it. Distantly you hear Jake calling your name but can't fully process it. He is stepping towards you, fear rings through your body, and instinctually you go to step back away from him. Flinching hard every one of your muscles feels like it's attached to a live wire. Your fight or flight mode activated but you are still mostly frozen in the middle with short panting breaths, your eyes flit across the room trying to find a suitable escape path.

"Sugar, please don't move. Just stay right there. It's okay." Jake is repeating, holding his hand up, showing you his open body language. Your breaths continue to come out gasping, but eventually you are able clear the cloudiness up enough with the help of Jake's soothing.

"Jake, help," you whimper. Training your eyes on Jake you think that he is the only available escape, from the glass around you and this attack. At your words, his whole face shifts overcome with a serious ‘get things done’ demeanor.

"Are you hurt?" He asks calmly. You can't answer him just offering a shaking shrug. "Stay right there for me, Sugar. Okay?"

Jake is shoving his feet into some boots, then crunching through the broken ceramics and glass before picking you up. He carries you to the living room, setting you down on top of the closed puzzle table. Once you are there, he kneels in front of you. Picking up each of your feet, Jake carefully examines them for injury. Then gives the rest of your body a scan; he is clearly relieved to find that there weren't any cuts.

"Wait here." He orders you gently, walking back to the kitchen and setting about cleaning the mess.

"I can clean that," you try to tell him in a weak attempt for Jake to stop.

"You just stay there looking pretty and take some breaths, sweets." He responds from the kitchen. You decide to give in, which is probably for the best with the way the numb panic is still very present at the edge of your consciousness. Your heart is still beating erratically as well.

Jake is expedient and thorough about cleaning, going through the whole kitchen and dining room with his shop vacuum searching for any hiding slivers. When finished he makes his way to the living room and crouches by your side again sighing heavily.

"I'm sorry," he says, setting his large warm hands on your knees.

"I'm sorry," you apologize as well. "I should have waited and asked you before changing the living room."

"You don't need to ask. I've just been on edge and wasn't expecting it. I do appreciate the thought. And you know I do love hammocks so, I'm sure I'll love it."

"We don't have to keep it," You remind him.

"We are taking it for a trial run," Jake responds. Then a few moments later he lets out a heavy sigh and says, "You know we are doing it all already, right?"

"What's that?"

"It" Jake says gesturing with his free hand in the air. "We fit together. We're," Jake takes the slightest pause, his hand grips yours so tight you almost ache, then he drops it completely. "A bridle joint or maybe, a box joint."

"We aren't ever going to fit with anyone else are we?" You ask him, clarifying.

"No, we aren't. I think it might just be this, Sugar. It's just us." Jake says the words like a confession, an admission, an honest reality.

You try to analyze the look in his eyes, but over anything else all you can focus on is how tired he is. You pick Jake's hand up again. Standing from the couch, pulling him with you. Jake asks no questions; he just follows you as you guide him. You tug him with you to each of the doors as you make sure each one is locked, jiggling them to be sure. Then he follows you to the kitchen as you grab two of his glass water bottles. You hand one to him and take his, gripping it tightly while his other hand remains loose in yours.

You keep leading him then as he follows you up the stairs. Finally, You open the door to his room, and freeze in the doorway. A gasp catches in your throat. It's empty. The whole room. Not a mattress or a bedframe, no side tables or a dresser. It's all gone. There is one chest, a basket with some blankets, and one pillow. Jake stands close behind you, and you hear him audibly sigh into your ear.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself and pull Jake through the room, leaving no room to address the issue and heading straight to the bathroom. You turn on the water for the bath and let the tub start filling. Turning to Jake and finally, let go of his hand. He looks lost at you, and you bring your hand up to lift his chin up a little higher. Jake takes your direction and those gorgeous sea-glass green eyes look at you.

You tug at his shirt twice before he follows the movement and pulls it off. You step out of your own pants but otherwise stay clothed. Jake follows you sliding off his jeans. You go to Jake's bath chest still in place and grab a scent you think will be soothing, adding it to the bath.

You reach to pull down his boxers, and he shakes his head in a small no. When you start to pull off your shirt, Jake's hands stop you there too. He gives you a pleading look, and you shrug back, leaving your shirt in place. You motion for Jake to get in the bath, and he wordlessly does as you say. Making room for you between his knees, Jake scoots until he hits the back of the tub. You step into the warm water and slide down to settle in.

Jake's head falls forward so his forehead presses into the space where your shoulder and neck meet, taking deep breaths. You shudder, feeling the air of his breath against your neck. Jake's large hands are gripping the side of the bathtub hard. You are shocked that the feeling of the wet clothes sticking to your skin hasn't rocketed you out of the bathtub. But like it often is, it's hard to focus on anything that's not Jake when he is this close to you.

After a while, when Jake lifts his head and leans back, you do as well, leaning into his chest, his arms slide around you, pulling you even closer, as you draw imaginary designs on one of his forearms.

"What's it mean for us?" You finally ask him.

"I'm worse than I was before," Jake says to you quietly.

"Before me?" And that actually makes you want to cry because it sounds so true. Things certainly would have been less variable without you around in Jake's life. No one to throw him off his routines. And before him weren't you better able to protect your heart better than this? You had been calloused and strong before. Living with Jake and in this house has been like a fine grit sandpaper buffing you so now you only have smooth soft edges.

Has that been the way it's been between the two of you this whole time, something bad that was disguised as good? You can't come up with an answer, and apparently, neither can he. So it sits there, wilting, rotting between the two of you.

The silence is loud and almost echoes in the bathroom, with no room to hide. You finally take one of Jake's hands in yours and play with his fingers. He seems content with this, relaxing even further into the water. One of his knees occasionally bumping into you playfully, as if you could forget that he was there, as if there were anything besides Jake on your radar.

Then he is whispering your name against your neck, right behind your ear. Gooseflesh bursts across your skin, and his beard is coarse and scratchy against your sensitive skin not having been trimmed once since it started growing. You try to shift away but his lips follow you. Tired of the game you reach a hand behind you and fist it into Jake's long hair, tightly tugging his face away from your neck. Jake gasps in response.

You drop your hand feeling like he has been sufficiently warned from the action, which you know would have descend into tickling. Jake grabs your wrist and turns it, and then ghosts his lips over your pulse point. After two more soft kisses there he presses three to your palm, and on each finger. Each press of his lips is intoxicating even in a place as insignificant as your hand. With your ring finger Jake's kisses are three times as long and lingering. It's an action that has you slamming your eyes closed to keep the tears from escaping. He finally releases your arm and you drop your hand back into the warm water.

Something starts to thaw out there, in your chest. The combination of the physical warmth of the bath and Jake's blazing body heat. However, it is the feeling, the emotional warmth of it that makes the difference. You tremble slightly feeling completely overwhelmed, the idea of being anywhere else or trying to move is devastating to your system.

"Sugar pie?"

"Yes, Jakobi?" You answer back just as quietly

"We haven't been doing so good, have we?"

"No."

"Our mental health?"

"Positively dismal. We both probably need to be institutionalized." You tell him. Jake nods along, in understanding with your words.

"Do you think I could convince them to let us be roomies there too?"

"Not sure even you could swing that one, honey." You respond. Jake's eyes and whole face positively light up moments after you say the words.

"Honey?"

You hum thinking it over before smiling and nodding, "Yup."

"But that's my nickname for you," Jake says in a pouting tone but the bright expression he is wearing hasn't dimmed.

"Yeah, and sugar, darling, babycakes, anything related to pie—"

"I called you Huckleberry pie once and—"Jake protests but you barrel onwards cutting him off.

"Well no more honey for you anymore. You use half the sweet names under the sun, I'm allowed to have one. And I think it's honey." You cup Jake's scratchy bearded cheeks and smile softly. "You're my honey, now."

"Why honey?"

"Because you're so sweet."

"I'm not," Jake says brokenly, all playfulness having been sucked out of him. His head is heavy in your palm as he eases into your hold.

"You're sweet," you repeat more firmly. Then continue, "Plus I can just imagine how snug and happy you would be in those honey combs."

"Hexagons are one of the superior shapes," Jake sighs.

"Sure they ar, and you are golden like honey." You run your fingers through Jake's hair again. He shutters hiding those sad green eyes from you.

"I never knew just how blond the sun could make your hair," You sigh when you reach the end, scratching back up his scalp to repeat the process. You are turned fully to face him now, sloshing the water a bit to settle more comfortably. However Jake doesn't move, he seems almost as if he could be a statue made of glowing gold.

"This tan also makes no sense," you tell him, trailing your hands over his shaped shoulders.

He squints a single eye open at you, and you freeze as if you've been caught. Instead Jake's hand's pull your knees to settle on either side of his hips. Dragging you that much closer to him. It makes your breath hitch and Jake's eyes darken, however, he still leaves a bit of space.

"One of my grandpas was Italian," Jake says with a quirk of his lips. The single eye he had opened closed as the smile melted off his face. Your hands resume their path, after massaging Jake's shoulders you knead his neck. Which just leads to playing with his hair again. Your train of thought was lost until you noticed a small light but fresh scar on the top of his bicep. You lean forward and gloss your lips over the skin there. Jake's hand tightens where he is holding your thighs. He takes a careful breath in through his nose, and a long exhale. He follows that up with two more shallow but steady breaths and then just like that the tension releases from his body as he releases the air out.

"Where did you learn how to breathe like that, cowboy?" You ask him, letting your thumb continue to trace the strange new scar you have been examining.

"Oh, so, I'm cowboy now?"

"Mr. Cowboy, my honey." You coo back. Jake's eyes flutter open again, he blinks slowly at you heavily lidded.

"You are avoiding the question." You prompt him by raising an eyebrow.

"It's not as bad as you're probably thinking," Jake answers a moment later.

"I'm thinking, you did a whole summer of Vipassana, and meditation in some foreign country that made you have concerns about being that white guy(™)."

As his lips lift in response to your joke, you think Jake's dimples are some of the prettiest things in this world. Suddenly, you find it unacceptable that his beard hides any part of them from your view. You see the hint of them but it's not the same you think as you trace the shape of one. Your left hand remains pressed over the new scar you had discovered.

"We both know I could never do vipassana."

"I have evidence to the contrary," the words fall from your lips before you can stop them, and you regret them instantly.

"Don't be mean to me," he begs you. In the same breath he speaks the words you are already halfway through saying, sorry.

"I'm working on leaving it I promise," You tell him.

"We don't have to leave it, we could talk about it." Jake suggests hopefully.

"We are leaving it Jake," you say back sharply and he snaps his mouth shut chewing at the side of his cheek for a moment before responding.

"Okay. I know I hurt you deep, and it's still fresh," Jake responds. His jaw clenches and you feel it jump.

"So, it wasn't meditation? Is this going to be another riveting USNA story?" You ask him, steering the conversation back on a lighter track.

"It was before Annapolis."

"Tell me more," you laugh, dropping your hold on his face, leaning forward and resting your check against his bicep.

"You're going to laugh at me," he pouts.

"I find that an entirely likely probability," you answer teasingly.

"I had to take friendship classes in middle school."

"I'm sorry, you did what?" You ask Jake to repeat, trying to process this bit of information.

"This other kid and I hated each other, and we were constantly getting into it. The worst part is we had lockers right next to each other. He accidentally hit me with his locker, and I lost it. So, I slammed his head right back and we started brawling. Anyways, long story short, our school counselor made us take friendship classes, and taught us breathing techniques. It was all bull shit, but we ended up being friends afterwards, bonding over how stupid friendship class was."

"At least you got some good breathing techniques."

"Something like that," Jake laughs back.

"What's this one then? It's new." you say ghosting your lips over the scar you had found again. Jake sighs, glancing at the scar himself.

"You are going to be mad," he starts.

"Why would I be mad, honey?"

"I got two more moles removed." The admission makes you pull back and give Jake a weary suspicious glare.

"Have you not been wearing sunscreen again?"

"No, I've been wearing sunscreen ever since you told me about it, I promise. The Doc just asked about one of them and wanted to do a biopsy. So, I said he might as well just take them all off while he was at it."

"And?"

"Everything came back benign. Nothing to really worry about, Sugar."

"I always worry about you, Jakers." You sigh with relief and kiss that scar again, enjoying the feeling of having your head pillowed on his arm.

"I know, I'm sorry." Jake whispers back. You wish he had just left it as I know.

"I don't want to make you worse, Jake."

"You don't make me worse. I am worse, no one has ever inspired me to act quite as selfishly as you have. I don't even know how to wholly be anymore without you."

"I just want to make things better for you."

Jake groans quietly, "Maybe someday it will finally click that you make everything better. That you are stunning, and gorgeous, and just over all the best."

"We could clear cut a forest, and not find a single tree that's sappier than you Jake." It inspires a quirk of his lips but not the laugh you were hoping for.

"You are probably right," is all Jake says back, continuing to trace shapes into your skin. It's quiet for a long time as you two just exist together, coming down from the emotional turmoil of the night.

Eventually, You ask, "Jake, where are you?"

"I don't know. I don't know, Sugar," He sighs and tilts his head back letting out an exhausted breath.

"Are you in the clouds?" You ask. He thinks before shaking his head no.

"Are you on the ocean?"

He feels the water around him briefly then settles his hands on your skin again. "It doesn't appear so."

"Are you on base?"

"No."

"So, where are you?"

"I know I'm here with you sugar, it just doesn't feel real." Jake answers.

You examine him closely from his wet hair to the defined muscles of his shoulders and neck. How much muscle Jake gained deployment almost pushed him into a category you would describe as too buff, but not actually going over the edge. As you trace the shape of his face you can easily identify what one of the problems is.

"You are being suffocated," you tell him as your fingers trace up his cheeks and around through his hair there.

"Why do you have a beard Jake?" You ask in a gentle curious tone.

"I don't have to shave until I go back to work."

"You should shave sooner," You say encouragingly.

"Too tired," Jake says, stretching out one of his legs in the water.

"Do you want help?"

"You want to give me a shave, sugar?"

"I'd be willing to give it a go if you feel like it would help," you answer plainly. He thinks about it before nodding.

"It would."

That's all you need to hear before you are stepping out of the bath. Immediately you hate how the wet material of your shirt clings to your skin. So, you quickly rip it off and throw it into the shower. Jake groans behind you and you point a finger back at him while grabbing fresh towels and Jake's shaving kit from beside the sink.

"It's nothing you haven't seen and you can control yourself," you chastise him.

"But you are so fucking beautiful," Jake groans making absolutely no effort to hide the way his eyes trace over your body.

"You were two minutes from falling asleep."

"That was before," Jake whines as you come back to the bath and he sees you in even more detail.

You set the shaving kit to the side within easy reach and settle yourself back into the water. You sit so your bare chest is pressed against his. This makes Jake close his eyes throwing his head back whispering a quiet "Fuck."

When his eyes open again, they are slightly dilated with lust. It makes you smile at him whispering, "hi there."

"Hi," he breaths back.

"Hi," you say again, smiling wider. Jake can't stop himself from smiling as well, lips drawn upwards. His hands trace up your bare sides and you give him a small glare. Grabbing his chin you tilt his head back once more.

"Yup, hold yourself just like that," You tell him, pausing to make sure he doesn't move. You start to lather up some shaving cream spreading it along this neck.

"Have you shaved someone else before?" Jake questions.

"Not really. So, you might want to give me pointers. I don't want to cut your pretty face." You answer with a teasing tone.

Jake hums in acknowledgement thinking for a long moment. Then he starts to detail the intricate shaving ritual he normally keeps. You follow each one of the steps. It's a slow process, shaving him. You are worried that you will cut him or make some other mistake in the process. Jake isn't hesitant or shy about giving you sweet and gentle encouragement.

Finally, Jake's face is free of hair again. You help wipe away the remaining product, and dab on the aftershave in his kit you brought over. Jake winces but gives you a tentative smile when you stare at him examining your work. You smile back softly, setting things down that are in your way, feeling relieved to be done.

The two of you finish your bath before getting out and drying off. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you head back to your room changing and settling into bed. Jake follows not long after in a pair of comfy pants and a soft muscle shirt. He asks if he can join you in bed even though you already pulled the covers back while waiting for him.

Jake takes a bit of shifting to get comfortable until he is laying on his side facing you, meeting your gaze as you shift to see him better. You lift a hand to cup his face enjoying the fresh smooth skin there.

"Ah, there he is," you say with a soft sigh. The lines of Hangman's face are prominent and easy to follow again. A tear spills from Jake's eye and you push it away gently. Leaning forwards Jake angles his lips to barely brush over yours before he pulls back.

"Please?" You ask him, going to follow his lips for more.

"I don't think we should," Jake responds and snuggles his face into your neck to avoid the temptation of your lips.

"But we fit. We fit perfectly," you whisper.

"That's exactly the problem," Jake answers. "I won't do wrong by you again. And that means I don't want to rush anything. Are you in a hurry?"

"Does that have a timeline?" You ask, ignoring your frustration.

"It does in a general sense."

"Care to share?"

"Sure," Jake mutters tiredly into your neck. "I think it's been going for a while. Right?"

"That's right," You answer, letting your hand drift into his long hair. It is almost all the way dry now and fluffy. He had a haircut scheduled before he started work again leaving you only a few days left to savor this. His eyes close, and a small smile graces his face. With a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp a tiny whine tumbles out of him. Jake seems too tired to care anymore. His nose just nuzzles your neck, and he places a tiny kiss there. You sigh, and resume playing with the silky strands.

"And how long before we have it all figured out, Honey?" You ask.

"As I see it, the rest of our lives. So, give or take sixty-ish more years."

"We are making it the long haul huh?"

"Yes, Ma'am. We will, so there's absolutely no reason to start at a sprint."

"I thought you had a need for speed." You tell him teasingly.

Jake huffs into your neck, sucking in a deep breath he blows it out slowly tickling your skin. "I have a great comeback for that."

"Oh really?"

He hums in affirmation. Then he sleepily manages to crack an eye open and looks at you, while he mumbles, "But I am a sleepy boy. Wait, no… a sleepy man"

You chuckle and kiss Jake's forehead. "Goodnight, sleepy boy"

"Sleepy man," he tries to correct you, but the words are hardly coherent. It takes less than five minutes before Jake is fully asleep, and you aren't far off yourself. Jake is so warm, and itis so easy to match your breaths with his deep even ones. Falling into a dream where you spend sixty years with Jake, even there in your dream you realize that still might not be enough.

…

Read the rest of this chapter on AO3. Sorry again, Tumblr wouldn't let me put it all here (and that it's so long). My first reblog of this here on Tumblr has the other half as well.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #house we share #jake seresin x you #hangman x you #gci3 #good comes in 3

496 notes · View notes

naughtyneganjdm · 1 year

Text

Mine - Chapter 4

Summary: Joel still has trouble showing affection to Y/N and Ellie steps in to give him a pep-talk about what he needs to do in order to make things right. Things become awkward when Y/N goes to see Negan who acts like nothing happened between the two of them.

Characters: Joel Miller (TLOU), Negan (TWD), the reader (OC, third person), Ellie Williams (TLOU), Tommy Miller (TLOU), Maria Miller (TLOU) etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45115177/chapters/114077854

Warnings: Swearing, angst, minor mentions of smut, etc.

Notes: Thank you to those that have given this story a try. I appreciate you reading it. Gif Credits: @magnusedom & @londoncapsule

Life was complicated enough as it was. The last thing Y/N needed right now was the world throwing a wrench into the natural flow of things to shake her world up even more. It seemed like when there was so much going on, the world always had a way of throwing more at you and that’s how Y/N felt. Right now she felt overwhelmed and confused.

Waking up today should have felt incredible. There should have been nothing, but happiness that she was feeling. When she fell asleep last night, she got the one thing she always wanted. To have Joel hold her in his arms. To comfort her and be with her before bed. For over a year it was the one thing she craved the most. It was perfect and it felt amazing. It was the closest feeling to happiness she had in so long. After a few days of not being able to sleep, it finally put her at ease and made her comfortable enough to fall asleep. Then again, it wasn’t hard feeling at ease with the warmth of Joel’s arms wrapped around her. It led her to feel protected by Joel. And it was a dream come true for her.

It was her dreams where things got confusing. There was one thing that repeated in her mind like a goddamn record that was stuck on repeat.

I love you.

And it was Negan that she was picturing. Everything he said last night was perfect. It was what you would want to hear from the person you were in love with, but it was her best friend. Her incredibly affectionate, sweet, supportive, good looking best friend that had always been there from the start.

Gazing over at Joel’s side of the bed, Y/N could feel her heart hammering inside of her chest. Joel had found his way back to his corner of the bed during the night. It would have been nice to wake up in his arms too, but maybe it was for the best that she didn’t because even in her sleep she thought about Negan’s kisses. At this point it did feel like a dream. One that her brain conjured up because she had been longing to hear it from someone for so long, but she knew it really happened.

Swallowing down hard, she felt that her throat was dry and she wondered if she should tell Joel what she had done last night in kissing Negan. Multiple times Negan had tried to convince her that it was just because she had gotten emotional over them almost dying together, but she wondered if that was truly the reason. Deep down, she figured that was why Negan told her that he loved her. It was one of those moments where your mortality was in question and it made you do things that you wouldn’t normally do.

Everything that Y/N wanted in Joel, Negan seemed to be. He was affectionate and he wasn’t afraid to show it. He said all the right things and always made her feel seen. Confusion would be an understatement right now because she would be lying if she said she didn’t have some sort of feelings for Negan, but she knew that she was head over heels in love with Joel. Plus, Negan had Morgan so she needed to get that thought out of her mind.

People sometimes got their feelings confused when it came to their best friends, right? She wouldn’t be the first person in the world to gain feelings for their best friend and confused it for something more. It just made her feel bad because all she had been asking of Joel was for him to show her some kind of affection, but it made her think about how Negan had been showing her that for so long. Joel only just started showing her the best that he could after she almost died. After Negan called him out on his actions. But Negan had been showing them all along.

“Shit,” she groaned out, lifting her hands to rub at her face. Stress was starting to get to her and overwhelm her.

There were two men in her life. Two incredible, amazing men that she cared very much about. There was Negan who was the best support system she could have asked for. Showing up at Jackson around the same time as Negan had made them almost immediately closer. When the community was still growing to trust them, they had each other. Negan was one of those people that you could only dream of having in your life. Someone that made your days go by easier. There was no question that she loved being around Negan. His personality and his attitude lifted her up. Joel was someone she was immediately smitten with. There was a connection she felt immediately with him and she knew that she wanted Joel in her life. She knew that from the first moment she met him. Even though he did his best to hide them, she knew there was so much good to Joel and he just needed someone to have faith in him to help him be the best he could be. It was just so hard to let him know that it was okay. That he could be the man that he wanted to be. There was just so much pain and trauma in his past that it made it hard to be with him sometimes, but that didn’t hide the fact that she was completely in love with him.

The sun was starting to rise and she knew that this would be around the time that she would typically get up for work. Yet, there was no work for her to do right now. With her getting hurt yesterday, it meant that she was supposed to lounge around and rest. She was never the resting type, so that was going to be hard. As soon as she got the okay from the doctor that she would be fine to work again, she hoped that Maria and Tommy found a good place to put her.

Getting up slowly, she still felt an incredible ache in her body from what happened the day before. If anything she hurt more today than she did yesterday. Then again, she figured that was because of the adrenaline spike in her body when everything happened. When she stood from the bed, she had to take a moment to gather herself before she started moving again. After getting dressed she went for the stairs and could only picture how terrible she looked moving down them.

“You look like shit,” Ellie’s young voice caught Y/N’s attention when she finally reached the bottom step. Ellie was sitting at the counter eating some cereal for breakfast and Y/N had to stop to gain her energy back.

“I feel like shit,” Y/N informed Ellie with a wince finally getting the strength to head to the kitchen to get herself a mug. Before getting the coffee started for the morning, she made sure to grab the pain medicine they had given her the day before. Quickly swallowing it down, she braced her hands against the counter.

“Do you need help?” Ellie offered but Y/N shook her head. She didn’t want people to pamper her in this moment. She needed to work through it herself. When Y/N started making the coffee, Ellie groaned out and took a big bite of her breakfast. “I don’t know how you and Joel drink that shit. It smells like ass.”

“I’m not sure if I could make it through the day without the caffeine,” she explained to Ellie with a small smirk. Moving around the kitchen, she reached out to curl her arm around Ellie to give her a hug at first. Ellie looked up to give Y/N a strange glance before getting up from her seat to wrap her arms carefully around Y/N.

“I can do a hug,” Ellie responded making Y/N lower her head to rest her chin on top of Ellie’s head while she hugged her. “Is this one of those you are appreciating life more moments because you almost died?”

“I just feel like we need to start showing the people we care about affection while we’re here and I love you kiddo,” she responded with a heavy sigh making Ellie smile before releasing Y/N from the hug to allow her to go get the coffee that was ready.

“I love you too,” Ellie smirked showing that the interaction actually made Ellie happy to hear something like that. Being with Joel had its perks. Ellie was one of those things. It gave her a relationship with a child that she never thought she would have. Especially in a world like this. In a way, Ellie felt like she was her adoptive daughter and she enjoyed getting to spend the time with her. Ellie was definitely one of those things that made being with Joel easier. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m alive, so that’s good, right?” Y/N didn’t want to stress her woes or her pain to Ellie, so she just pushed it aside. “Any pain I’m feeling, that’s what the medication is for, right?”

“I can’t believe you were almost killed yesterday. And it was from an accident of all things,” Ellie stressed with a shake of her head. “All the crazy things to almost die from in this world and you almost get crushed by a fucking turbine. Thank God for Negan, huh?”

“No kidding,” Y/N swallowed down after pouring herself some coffee. Wrapping her fingers around the mug, she allowed the warmth to warm her hands while she thought about Negan and everything that happened the night before. Even though Y/N considered herself best friends with Negan, it was clear that Ellie knew Negan more than Y/N actually did. Which, thinking about it was kind of sad. “Ellie, is Negan good with Morgan?”

“Sure,” Ellie thought about it for a moment and nodded her head about. “Morgan loves the hell out of him. And he makes sure that he’s very involved in her life and makes it known that he loves her. Their relationship is very sweet.”

“Oh,” Y/N felt a lump develop in her throat hearing that. If Negan loved Morgan so much, then why did he say the things that he did to her? Why tell her that he loved her? Wasn’t that unfair to Morgan? And why the hell was Y/N getting jealous hearing that? Y/N had Joel. Being jealous over a relationship that Negan had with someone else should have not been upsetting her as much as it was.

“Why do you ask?” Ellie finished up with her breakfast and pushed her bowl forward and away from her on the counter.

“I’ve just never seen the two of them together. I’ve never even met Morgan, so…” Y/N began making Ellie snicker and her face scrunched up. “What?”

“You’ve never met Morgan and you consider Negan your best friend?” Ellie almost poked fun at her making Y/N shrug her shoulders dramatically. Ellie wasn’t wrong. There were a lot of things that made her feel like a shitty friend with Negan when she thought about it. “That’s strange.”

“I’m busy a lot. I haven’t been in Negan’s home, ever. Last night was the first time that I was,” she declared making Ellie tip her head to the side. “I couldn’t sleep last night and I went over there to thank him. I kept thinking about my life and I knew I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him. So I wanted him to know that I was thankful that he saved me.”

“Makes sense,” Ellie acknowledged hearing the sound of a groan when she looked to the stairs to see that Joel was making his way down them. “Good morning old man! I see the dinosaurs wanted to get up later this morning.”

Instead of responding, Joel just gave Ellie a huff and she chuckled to herself. Mornings were usually when Joel was the grumpiest and Ellie loved giving him shit. That was their relationship. Joel took his time making his way to the kitchen to grab his owl mug for himself. Pouring his coffee, Joel took notice that both girls were watching him and he gave them a nod. Joel let out a thankful sound when he took his first sip and it made Y/N smile.

“You’re an angel for making this,” Joel explained enjoying the warmth of the coffee that he eagerly drank down. Joel’s hair was still a mess showing that he was exhausted while he rest back against the counter. With the way that Y/N was staring out at him, he shrugged his shoulders and smirked. “What?”

“Nothing, I just like your hair,” she set her mug down and moved across the kitchen to brush her fingers on her good hand through his hair. Joel’s eyes were hooked on hers with her so close to him. “Do you want to make breakfast together?”

“I should be going in early. Tommy and I are going to have to figure out how to fix the platform and the building,” Joel frowned, his eyebrows furrowing while her fingers slid down from his hair over his jawline. Teasing them through his facial hair over his jawline, he noticed the way her eyes looked over his lips and his gaze went to Ellie who was watching the two of them.

“Making breakfast doesn’t take that long,” Y/N pointed out, her thumb dragging out over Joel’s bottom lip. “How about pancakes?”

“I don’t like pancakes,” Joel grumbled, his face scrunching up when a rumble fell from his throat. Huffing out, he turned on his heel knowing that she didn’t mean to but hearing her say that reminded him of Sarah and his past. Lowering his head, he cupped at the mug full of his coffee and felt her hands sliding in over his sides.

“I forgot, I’m sorry,” she apologized making him feel uncomfortable with how touchy she was being in front of Ellie. Leaning in, she rest her head against his broad back when she wrapped her arms loosely around his waist. “We can do some eggs then, some toast and maybe some freshly squeezed orange juice?”

“I really have to get going,” Joel repeated turning in her arms to face her, putting a bit of distance between them in the way that he turned in her arms. There was no doubt that Y/N was being incredibly clingy today and he just wasn’t used to all of…this. “It was my job before the world fell to shit. Being a contractor. So I’m the only person that would really get this work done quickly. That’s what I’m really good at.”

“The contractor,” Ellie grumbled out in a distorted voice making Y/N chuckle and Joel gazed over at Ellie with a shake of his head showing by the smirk at his lips that he was amused by her antics.

“What was that?” Y/N questioned making Ellie snicker and toss her hands up in amusement.

“It’s a joke between Joel and I,” Ellie nodded her head while Joel sipped down on his coffee. “I’m sure they would be okay if you stayed home with Y/N today. After what happened, I think people would understand. I would stay with her if I could, but I have school. Which you can fuck off for that by the way.”

“You’re still a kid. You need to study,” Joel grumbled making Ellie dramatically roll her eyes.

“In this world, what the hell is going to school going to do for me?” Ellie pushed for answers and Joel stared out at her blankly making her laugh. Instead of giving her an answer, Joel simply grunted and went back to drinking his coffee. “Exactly! It’s not going to help me at all.”

“You just have to,” Joel moved out of Y/N’s grasps and reached for the cereal that Ellie had eaten earlier. Grabbing a bowl, Joel poured some of the cereal in for himself and reached for the milk that Ellie still had out. Lifting it up, he sniffed the milk to make sure that it was still good making Ellie’s face scrunch up. “I just have to check.”

“I guess that’s a no on breakfast?” Y/N rest back against the island at the center of the kitchen making Joel glance back over her before shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe you can just go in and come home early to be with me?”

“You know I can’t do that,” Joel responded making Y/N nod before swallowing down hard. “If you want a warm breakfast today, you should go to the dining hall to grab something when we leave. It makes sense for you to do as little as possible so you can rest.”

“Right,” Y/N’s cheeks flushed over and Ellie immediately picked up on the fact that Y/N’s feelings seemed to be hurt. It made Ellie want to smack Joel for his ignorance, but she stayed quiet.

Joel’s stare fell upon Ellie and he nodded toward the stairs, “Go get ready for school. I’ll walk with you.”

“Got it,” Ellie hopped up from her seat looking between both Joel and Y/N. “Be right back.”

When Ellie was gone, Y/N took a second to think about things before stretching her hands out across the top of the counter. Joel was standing facing away from her while he was eating the cereal he had gotten himself, “Joel, I need to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah?” Joel spoke with a mouthful, turning on his heel to stare out at her. He was holding the bowl in his hands while still chewing. When she was silent, his eyebrows bounced up and he shook his head. “What is it?”

“Are we okay?” she felt uncomfortable that he seemed tense with her again. “We went to bed and things seemed good, but now…”

“Everything is fine,” Joel interrupted her taking a bite, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah, but…” she noticed him look down at his bowl while he pushed the spoon around. Thinking back to the night before, she felt her throat go dry thinking about Negan. “There is something I need to tell you. It’s kind of important. It has to deal with Negan…”

“I know. You told him all about our relationship,” Joel commented making her words come to a quick halt. “So I know to expect shit out of his mouth now because he knows it all. You don’t have to worry about that. I told you it was fine.”

“It’s not that,” she felt her face getting warm with him repeatedly cutting her off this morning. She wanted so badly to tell him about kissing Negan, but she could tell that he was already in a closed off, potentially bad mood this morning. What she did with Negan was just making her feel guilty and she felt like she needed to be honest with Joel about things. “It’s just I was talking to Negan and…”

“I don’t care what you told your best friend. I’m not going to lie, I’m really sick of talking about Negan,” Joel informed her with another mouthful. Hearing that surprised her because there seemed to be some anger in his tone when he said it. “I feel like over the last day we’ve talked about Negan more than I care to admit. I don’t hate the guy and I appreciate that he saved your life. I know he’s your best friend, but I don’t want to talk about Negan anymore. Okay? He’s not in our relationship and the less we talk about your interactions with him. The better.”

“I just wish you would listen to me for once this morning,” Y/N begged of Joel hearing the sounds of footsteps returning. Ellie stepped at the entrance of the kitchen to stare between the two of them seeing that there was an upset expression over Y/N’s features.

“Do you need me to come back in a few?” Ellie pointed over her shoulder, clutching to the backpack that she had slung over it. “It looks like you were in the middle of something.”

“No, we’re good,” Joel shoved in the last few bites of his breakfast before setting the bowl down in the sink. Rubbing his hands together, Joel moved around the kitchen and grabbed a few things. “Let’s head out. We need to get you to school.”

Urging Ellie toward the front door, Joel heard Y/N call out to him and he stopped. Y/N bit at her bottom lip when Joel nodded his head about waiting for whatever it was she wanted, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Not that I can think of,” Joel retorted making Ellie roll her eyes and huff before walking off to the front door. Joel checked to make sure that he grabbed everything before pointing toward the door. “I’m going to head out. You should probably just go back to bed and get some rest after you eat, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can be.”

Swiftly heading to the door, Joel could see that Ellie was already outside and he closed the front door behind him, “Hey! Wait up.”

“You’re an idiot,” Ellie looked over at Joel while she walked to town toward her school.

“Why?” Joel grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets while he walked side by side with her.

“Because she was asking you to kiss her before you left. Maybe give her a hug,” Ellie educated Joel on what Y/N was asking of him before he left. “I know without a doubt you just hurt her feelings so fucking bad. Is it a man thing? Or is it a you thing?”

“That’s not what she was saying. She was just asking me if I forgot something,” Joel stopped walking hearing Ellie let out a defeated sound. Ellie stopped as well, turning to face Joel when his neck tensed.

“You’re not used to women, are you?” Ellie pulled at the straps of her backpack, shaking her head while Joel clearly had issues understanding what she was going off on. “Y/N was trying to be affectionate with you and you’re an idiot. The girl was asking you for a kiss before you left for work.”

“Then why didn’t she just say that?” Joel’s southern drawl rumbled making Ellie drop her head back and groan out. “Wouldn’t she ask me for that if that’s what she wanted?”

“How old are you? Fifty-seven and you still don’t understand how women work?” Ellie reached out to push at the center of Joel’s chest making him grunt. “I’m fifteen and I get it more than you do. You suck at this whole relationship thing.”

“I’ve never been the best at relationships,” Joel threw his hands up in the air making Ellie bob her head dramatically.

“That’s obvious,” she blurt out making Joel grunt something underneath his breath. Joel rest his hands at his hips and Ellie shook her head. “She just wants you to love her man. No woman wants to tell you to kiss them. They want you to want to kiss them. She wants to feel special Joel.”

“God, I’m trying. Last night I told her that she was my girlfriend and I cuddled with her. It was two things that I don’t really do. But I did my best. I’m trying to give her things that she wants, why am I always so wrong and hurting her when I’m trying?” Joel emphasized on his words feeling flustered that he was always seeming to do things wrong. It felt silly saying these things to Ellie. Talking about his love life with her didn’t seem…right. “I shouldn’t even be talking about this with you.”

“You should because maybe you might actually get some good advice that will help you,” Ellie snorted, her young features looking disappointed in Joel. Other children from town were walking to school, but Ellie knew she could get away with being late. “You need to keep making her feel good. You have to kiss her, hug her, tell her that she’s special. You’re gonna lose her man.”

“No, I won’t,” Joel shook his head and folded his arms in front of his chest. “She knows that I’m trying. And she loves me. She tells me all the time.”

“Was what you just did in there trying? Because if that was trying you failed my dude,” Ellie insisted pointing back toward the house. “She wanted you to kiss her when you first came into the kitchen. And nothing.”

“We shouldn’t be making out in front of you,” Joel pointed out making Ellie reach up to drag her hands down her face in a frustrated manner. “What? We shouldn’t be.”

“Kissing her is not making out with her. People kiss Joel and they hug!” Ellie looked down the street seeing that a couple was outside talking before one of them was about to leave. Ellie pointed off in the distance making Joel’s eyes squint looking in the direction. The couple kissed before the man left and Ellie nodded. “See! People kiss and no one bats an eye. You have to start being less of a robot. Kiss her when she wants to be kissed! When she wants to make breakfast with you, make it with her. She suggests making pancakes with you and it looked like you would rather die than be anywhere near her.”

“Pancakes just remind me of Sarah,” Joel frowned feeling his chest aching at the thought of it. “It upset me.”

“And how is she supposed to know that unless you tell her?” Ellie inquired making Joel sigh loudly and lower his gaze down toward the ground. “You punished her for that. If I didn’t know you and the way you tick, the way you just acted around her, I would have sworn you hate her.”

“I don’t hate her!” Joel defended himself, placing his hand over the center of his chest and Ellie tossed her hands up.

“I know!” Ellie responded with a huff, her eyebrows furrowing and she rolled her eyes. “That’s my point. You hurt her feelings. She was absolutely crushed. You don’t act like a boyfriend Joel. You don’t act like someone who is in love with her. She just seems like an annoyance to you.”

“That’s not how I mean to do things,” Joel admitted, something catching his eyes when he could see that they weren’t far from Negan’s home. His attention was pulled when he noticed that Negan was limping home.

Ellie was still talking and his attention was elsewhere. With a growl, Joel flinched back when Ellie clapped in his face, “Earth to Joel! Where did you go just now?”

“Sorry! I was just looking at Negan. He should be resting and he’s walking all about town,” Negan took notice of the way that Negan moved. With his sling on and the limp that he had, it seemed like Negan had been hit by a truck.

“Just because he’s hurt doesn’t mean that life stops for him Joel. He has to take care of Morgan,” Ellie stated with a roll of her eyes making Joel shake his head in disgust.

“Why does Morgan need an injured Negan to take care of her? The hell is wrong with this girl?” Joel snapped making Ellie bob her head about clearly flustered with Joel and what he was saying.

“What the hell are you on about? How is Morgan supposed to take care of herself?” Ellie was completely shook with what Joel just said and she rolled her eyes. “Listen, I don’t know what crawled up your ass today but you need to fix things with Y/N. The woman almost died yesterday and you are leaving her alone to herself.”

“Well what am I supposed to do?” Joel asked making Ellie start to pace showing that she had enough with Joel right now.

“If I were you? I would march my ass right back to that house. I would grab her, I would kiss her and I would tell her that she’s perfect. That you care so much about her and you are so fucking thankful that she is still in this damn world,” Ellie was loud and it made the mother that was walking with her child let out an offended breath and Joel’s cheeks flushed over with red.

“Sorry ma’am,” Joel reached out to pull Ellie in closer to him. “That mouth is going to get us in trouble.”

“Regardless Joel, be a man,” Ellie scoffed pulling away from Joel before looking over her shoulder at the school. “I have to go, but please…for the love of God do what I asked of you. You have something good there. She loves you. She loves us. She knows about what happened to me and she has stayed quiet. We’re a family Joel. Don’t ruin it.”

“Ellie…” Joel frowned feeling Ellie move in to wrap her arms around Joel’s waist tightly. Pausing, he lowered down and wrapped her up in his arms to hug her firmly. “Have a good day at school kiddo.”

“Listen to me old man,” Ellie smacked Joel’s shoulder before running off toward school.

Looking over his shoulder, Joel headed back toward home. Walking across the street, he went to pick up Tommy so they could go to work, but he couldn’t help but think about what Ellie had said to him. With a huff, he stayed standing outside and tipped his head from side to side. He was debating which he needed to do more. Listen to Ellie or continue on with life and do what he would normally do.

“Come on Joel,” he tried to coach himself before looking back at Tommy’s house one more time. He had to make a decision and he was so damn conflicted.

“You forget where I live or something old man?” Tommy’s voice called out making Joel look back over his shoulder at his younger brother while he stood in front of Tommy’s house. “Are you getting that fucking old?”

“Haha, so damn funny,” Joel growled when Tommy moved in beside him and bumped him with his shoulder. Joel felt a lump developing in his throat when he gazed to his home again.

“How’s the lady?” Tommy saw Joel’s brow line crease and he nodded.

“She’s sore. Moving slower today,” Joel recalled what he had seen reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “I think the excitement from everything died down and she’s really feeling the effects of the fall that happened afterwards.”

“You sure you want to go to work today?” Tommy spoke up smacking his older brother in the center of the chest with the back of his hand. “I think today we will mainly just be doing cleanup and fixing the turbine. We need to get that sucker in there. It’s crazy how little damage that thing took, but how easily it ripped through the platform.”

“Yeah, of course,” Joel swallowed down feeling Tommy pat him between the shoulders when he nodded his head. Joel watched Tommy run off to the front door to call Maria to say goodbye and give her a quick kiss goodbye. It made Joel think about what Ellie had said. She was right. Y/N wanted to be kissed goodbye. That’s what normal couples did. Joel just knew that he wasn’t…normal. He warned her of that from the start, but he knew that she just wanted to feel some sort of normal with their relationship. Rubbing at the back of his neck, Joel ultimately decided to stay and wait for Tommy instead of doing what Ellie said.

On their way to the powerplant, Tommy was heavily focused on what happened the day before. Talking about how bad he felt about things happening. How it was his fault. Negan and Y/N were heavy topics of discussion for him, but Joel was quiet and kind of locked inside of himself, “I’m surprised that Negan and Y/N aren’t furious with me. They almost died and they didn’t take it out on me.”

“Tommy, am I a bad…” Joel stopped walking, turning to his younger brother who seemed surprised that Joel stopped so abruptly. Joel was having a hard time thinking things out when he threw his hands about. “A bad partner?”

“A bad partner?” Tommy wasn’t sure where his brother was going with that subject.

“A significant other to Y/N,” Joel explained further making Tommy’s dark eyes narrow and Joel watched his brother immediately look away from him. “I am, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know Joel, it’s none of my business,” Tommy rambled making Joel huff loudly. “I don’t know what you want me to say Joel.”

“I want you to be honest with me,” Joel thought about Ellie’s words and they were really weighing heavy on him. He was regretting not doing what Ellie told him to. “I’m not good to her, am I?”

“You’re not bad to her,” Tommy responded with a shrug, shaking his head. “I just think, you could be better. I think you’re…cold. And that’s not exactly your fault, but the only person that I’ve seen you show extensive amounts of love to is me and the kid. Most of the town knows the two of you are together, but then they question it because you’re such…”

“An asshole?” Joel filled in the blanks hearing his little brother huff.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Tommy stammered feeling visibly uncomfortable. “I just think you are with someone who gives so much love to you. I’ve never seen someone try so hard to make someone happy. The gal loves you, Joel. It’s rare we find someone in this life that wants us happy. In this world, we’re lucky to be with anyone, you know. Big brother, I just…it’s just who you are. Sometimes you’re hard, but the girl is willing to put in the effort for you. I reckon that says that you are doing something right.”

Letting out an overwhelmed rumble, Joel bounced on his feet for a minute before starting to take slow steps backward, “Tommy, I have to come in later today. There are things I have to do and I just…I need some time. Okay?”

“Of course. Take your time,” Tommy assured Joel with a nod seeing Joel head back in the other direction, moving swiftly back toward the homes. “Don’t overdo it big brother. You’re fucking old.”

Ignoring his brother’s mocks, Joel rushed home and when he got there, he ran up the stairs to the door. Bursting through the door, he could feel his heart hammering inside of his chest when he searched the first floor.

“Y/N?” Joel called out hearing the sound of movement when she walked into the kitchen. Advancing forward, Joel curled his fingers around the back of her neck and brought her to him bringing her in to kiss him. Grasping her face in his rough hands, he caressed over the sides of her face with his thumbs feeling her hum against his lips. “I’m so sorry. I’m so goddamn sorry.”

“Joel,” she gasped, digging her fingers into his hair when he hooked his arms underneath her thighs to pick her up to pull her in against him. Her other arm wrapped around his shoulders so she didn’t fall when he headed toward the stairs to carry her up them.

Carrying her to the bedroom, Joel carefully laid her at the center of the bed before crawling in over her and kissed her with all the passion he could muster up. The soft sweeping of his tongue against hers drew her fingers to hook harder into his hair making her purr out into his mouth.

“You are so perfect and I care about you so much,” Joel slurred against her mouth, his hands reaching down to work open her pants making her gasp when she looked down between the two of them. “I’m so happy that nothing happened to you. I would have been lost if I woke up this morning knowing that you were no longer here.”

“Joel,” she whimpered, her hand dragging down over the side of his face while his dark eyes gazed into hers. Joel worked to get her pants down before helping her carefully get her shirt from her body. It took her breath away when she watched him pull his clothing off in a haste before laying in over her. Laying himself between her thighs, Joel nuzzled his nose in against the side of her neck when he allowed the skin-to-skin contact between the two of them.

“I promise, I’m going to try to do better,” Joel whispered, peppering faint kisses against her lips before pushing his hips forward making her gasp when he entered her. Unlike the other night, this time he was taking his time to actually make love to her. Keeping his eyes locked on hers made his heart hammer inside of his chest while he took his time rolling his hips against hers time and time again. “I swear.”

Joel felt her hand palming in over the side of his face and he turned his head toward her palm to kiss over the center of it before lowering back down to kiss her again, “You are so beautiful.”

“I love you,” she whispered making Joel swallow down hard. That wasn’t something he was ready to say to her in return, but he was hoping that sometime soon he would be able to say it himself. With a weak smile, he lowered down and met her lips in a lingering kiss.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Joel breathed against her lips still wanting to take that time to focus on her to make her feel special like Ellie told him to do. “I never want to lose you. Now that you’re in my life, I never want to let you go.”

----

“Goddamn it,” there was another knock at the door and Negan let out a rumble of a groan. He was laid out on the couch, a pillow over his head in attempts to block out the light that was helping to aid in giving him a headache. All morning and afternoon people had been showing up at his house with gifts after they heard what he had done. Asking Maria to not make him a hero in the town had become unsuccessful and while he appreciated the gestures, he didn’t like being viewed as something that he didn’t feel like he was. Being the town hero was not on the list of things he thought he deserved and he hoped that by staying silent the person at his door would just go away. When the knocks continued, he huffed out loudly and stayed where he was. “The door is unlocked!”

Hearing the door push open, he didn’t even bother to move on the couch or pull the pillow from his head when he heard the person enter and close the door behind them, “If you’re leaving a gift, just put it on the kitchen table with the others. If you’re coming to steal from the house, just leave the toys. If you’re coming here to kill me, please just make it fucking fast.”

There was a silence that followed making him swallow down hard. With a jump, he felt someone stroking at the back of his good hand making him lift his head up. The pillow fell from his face and he saw that it was Y/N sitting on the ground beside the couch. A weak smile tugged at his lips when he sighed and allowed their fingers too hook when he realized it was her.

“You’re getting that many gifts, huh?” she found amusement in the way that he had responded thinking she was someone else from the town bringing him something. “You get anything good?”

“Well, I’ve gotten two pies. One pumpkin and one cherry,” Negan informed her with a bounce of his eyebrows, nodding toward the kitchen. “The two nice ladies that work at the dining hall brought them here for me. One of them either brought me tea or weed to help me. I haven’t quite made out what it is yet. When she handed me a bag of leaves, I was in too much pain to even know.”

“What?” she snorted making Negan laugh, but he immediately regretted it when the severe ache in his abdomen from his broken ribs returned.

“Yeah, so there is that. All the guys that have visited have brought me some kind of alcohol,” Negan informed her with a long rumble of a sigh, stretching out his long body on the couch that he was laying on. “With all the alcohol, I’m thinking I can save them and make some decent trades around town. Who knew people would be so willing to hand over valuable things just because I saved your life.”

“Well you’re the town hero,” she teased him, caressing her fingertips over the back of the hand that she was holding. “Maybe you deserve it.”

“I told all of them no, but they didn’t listen to me,” Negan responded with a shake of his head. “I mean the pies I’ll eat, but I’m on a shit load of pain pills right now and that doesn’t go well with alcohol. I’d have to be really desperate to mix the two.”

Leaning forward, Y/N rest her head against Negan’s side and she sighed. Negan took notice of the way she found comfort with him and he grumbled to himself, “What about you? What have you gotten?”

“Nothing,” she was honest with him, her eyes lifting to his making him let out an offended breath. “Tommy and Maria have checked on me, but other than that…”

“You’re joking,” Negan hissed, his eyes rolling when he heard that people weren’t showing her the same kind of attention they were him. “You think the world changes and it ends up being the same way it was before all of this happened.”

“You deserve the attention more than me Negan. You risked your life to save mine,” she reminded him and Negan shook his head.

“But you need to know that people still appreciate that you’re here. That they are happy you are still around,” Negan insisted and she felt her chest ache when she thought about it like that.

“I’m not sure people like me all that much. Just you,” she pointed out making Negan let out an upset breath. “Maybe they are just scared to come see me because they are afraid of Joel. Regardless, I kind of just disappear into the background. My social life is pretty much you, Tommy, Maria, Ellie and Joel.”

“I hate people,” Negan asserted, laying his head back down again while his fingers squeezed tightly to hers.

“Are you only on the couch because you can’t make it up the stairs?” she changed the subject knowing that she had been worried about him.

“I can make it up the stairs, I’m just too lazy to,” Negan joked with a tiny laugh feeling her fingers grasping tighter to his. “Tonight I’ll probably make it up there. Most likely. I need to get a shower in.”

“You can call the two nice ladies back from the dining hall to help you with a sponge bath,” she teased him making Negan let out a rumble of a laugh. “I’m sure they would enjoy that.”

“I think they would have a heart attack once they saw me naked. You have to understand, that’s only for the eyes of the strong. When you see something as beautiful and big…” Negan started to ramble making her groan out before blowing a raspberry at his abdomen. It made him snicker, but wince at the same time because of his injury. “I’m just saying. They won’t expect it to be as big as it is and…”

“God, how are my two favorite men in this world so very much alike, but also so very much different?” she stammered making Negan’s smile fade and he wiggled her hand in his before lifting it up to deposit a kiss over the back of her hand. “You’re a dork.”

“I’m a lot of things,” Negan agreed with her, adjusting the pillow that he had over his head originally and putting it underneath it. Closing his eyes, his Adam’s apple bounced in his throat and he yawned. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“My mind hasn’t let me do that a lot lately,” she declared with a simple shake of her head. “I’ve been thinking about you, a lot.”

“Oh yeah?” Negan turned his head to the side and stared out at her with a smile. “What about?”

Truthfully? That kiss and I love you. But that’s not what she was going to talk about.

“Tell me about you Negan. I think it’s time you told me why you hate yourself so damn much,” she frowned making Negan’s eyes narrow and a muscle in his jaw flexed. “You don’t want to be considered a hero. You don’t think you deserve good things in life. Why?”

“You won’t want to be around me anymore if you knew,” Negan assured her, his facial expression very serious when she shook her head. “I’m serious Y/N.”

“I don’t care about your past Negan. All I care about is who you are now,” she promised him, giving his hand a supportive squeeze. “So tell me.”

“There’s not much to say. I was a bum before this shitty world happened. I was married to my high school sweetheart. I started my life off as a jock. I was really good with sports. I was really good at what I did. Then in college I got injured and I gave up. I became a high school gym teacher and I was a dickhead with a short fuse. I got into a fight with a guy one time at a bar after he called my wife a few choice names so I beat the ever-living shit out of him. It got me arrested, it made me lose my job and I got depressed. I hated the man I became and I cheated on my wife,” Negan was honest with her making her nod her head while he sold himself completely as a worthless piece of shit. “My wife at the time found out she had cancer and I stopped. I changed my life around only for this apocalyptic hell hole to start and I took care of her. It didn’t matter though because no matter what I did I couldn’t save her. She killed herself because she didn’t want the cancer to kill her. She wanted to be in control of her own life. She did it while I was gone because she knew that I wouldn’t be able to deal with it.”

“Shit,” she watched Negan pull himself up a bit so he could sit while she continued to hold onto his hand. “Then I became an even bigger, shittier miserable asshole. I hopped from group to group where people kept dying until I found one that needed a leader and I made myself their leader. I became a huge piece of shit. I hurt people. Just for the hell of it. I took their supplies. I did awful things.”

“We all do questionable things in order to survive,” Y/N suggested making Negan’s eyes tear over and he shook his head slowly. “You’re more like Joel than you think.”

“I doubt it,” Negan half laughed, lifting his head enough to show the scar that was barely visible over his neck, but it was still there. “A guy I was fighting with at the time cut my throat because of what I had done. I lived and they put me in a jail cell in someone’s basement for about seven years. When I finally left, I met another woman that saved me. We got close and she ended up pregnant with my baby. And uhm…well, she died when trying to give birth to our child.”

“Negan…” she felt her heart drop seeing the way that his hazel eyes teared over while he spoke about his past. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Tell you what Y/N? That I lost people?” Negan questioned and shook his head. “We all lost people. Joel lost his daughter. You lost your family. It doesn’t make my sob story any worse than anyone else’s. I was an asshole at the beginning of this shit storm and I feel like the world was paying me back for the things that I had done.”

“And your baby?” she saw Negan’s bottom lip tremoring while he laid stretched out before her, his eyebrows furrowing when the sound of another knock was heard on the door.

“No one’s home,” Negan called out only to hear the door being pushed open and he groaned out. Popping their head inside, Negan saw that it was Maria and grumbled to himself as she entered his home and closed the door behind her. “Speak of the devil.”

“Oh yeah, that’s me,” Maria looked between the two of them with a container of something in her hands. ‘I wanted to come in and check on you Negan.”

“I’m surviving,” Negan answered seeing the way that Maria looked down to his hand that was holding onto Y/N’s while they sat and were talking together. Trying to push back his emotions, he knew that Maria saw he was emotional and he shrugged. “I’m horrible with pain. I cry like a baby when I’m in pain.”

“I see,” she hummed, her eyes narrowing while she looked them over. Y/N picked up on the fact that she was staring, but she didn’t pull her hand away which surprised Negan. This was the wife of Joel’s brother, but she seemed confident that it was okay to be holding Negan’s hand. “I’m glad you both are here. I grabbed some homemade soup from the dining hall. I thought you might want some. It’s nice and warm. It should help with getting you to relax and that way you don’t have to make yourself food.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you Maria, my ribs hurt too much to even swallow,” Negan informed Maria with a grumble making her shrug. “You know, I asked you not to tell everyone that I was a hero. Yet today I’m getting gifts galore.”

“Most people don’t complain when they receive things for free,” Maria reminded Negan stepping further into the house to look at the table where she found the things that he was given. “Plus, I didn’t tell anyone. Word travels fast you know. In a town of a little over three hundred people, people hear things.”

With a grunt, Negan watched Maria disappear into his kitchen and he sighed, turning his head to Y/N, “The people in this town have no problem walking into your house and walking around. I know it’s a different world, but it still takes some time getting used to.”

“That’s because we trust everyone here,” Maria called out from the kitchen from where she obviously heard Negan. It made Y/N smile and tip her head down. After a minute, Maria stepped out into the living room and sighed. “Which do you like better? Pumpkin or cherry?”

“I don’t care. Pie is pie,” Negan answered watching Maria disappear into his kitchen. The sound of dishes being set up were heard before Maria came out into the living room with them.

“Let’s get him up,” Maria suggested making Negan groan and pull his hand up to make them wait. “You’re on a lot of pain medication and you need to eat.”

“Yes ma’am, but I’m going to feel like an asshole if I make the two of you pick me up,” Negan insisted, carefully pulling himself up into a seated position on the couch. It took him time before he was able to stand up to his feet. Both Y/N and Maria still helped him toward the kitchen and Maria held a chair out for him at the table where she had already cut a piece of pie for the both of them and gotten soup out for them. “Thank you, Maria.”

“You got it,” Maria moved around Negan to squeeze at his shoulders in a soft grab. “I’ll stop by every so often to check to see if you need something.”

“You’re not going to eat with us? I have enough pie,” Negan pointed toward the table, letting out a huff when he noticed that Maria cleaned up the gifts he had been given so that they were tidy and in order. “At least have a piece of pie with us.”

“I have to get back to the baby,” Maria explained with a loud sigh looking between the two of them. “But I’ll take a raincheck on the pie. I promise we’ll do something else.”

Maria moved around the table and reached her arms out to give Y/N a hug, “It was good to see you, Maria.”

“I’m glad to see you up and moving around,” Maria gave Y/N a big smile before heading back toward the door. “I’ll see both of you later.”

Hearing the sound of the door closing, Negan watched Y/N slowly take a seat at the side of the table where Maria had set up a spot for her, “You know, if she knew about my past, she wouldn’t want me here. She thinks I’m a good man. You’re the only one here that knows I’m not.”

“I think you’re still a good man,” Y/N stretched out her hand, placing it in over Negan’s left that was braced over the table. Stroking her fingers over the back of it, she shook her head and sighed. “You acknowledge you’re wrong and you have tried to change. I see good in you.”

Negan simply nodded and swallowed down hard. It was obvious he was still emotional from what they were talking about before Maria showed up and she sighed, “I have to be honest with you about something.”

“Yeah?” Negan cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

“You’re a better cook and baker than ninety percent of the people here,” Y/N informed Negan with a weak smirk making Negan laugh before nodding his head. “I have tasted your food and I’ve tasted theirs. I can say that no one is quite like you.”

“I had a lot of time to learn to cook,” Negan knew that he had brought her a lot of things he had made from home to work on the days that they shared lunch together. “I guess this is where it’s my time to be honest with you. I am right-handed and I’m going to look ridiculous trying to eat with my left. So please don’t make fun of me.”

“I would never,” she assured him with a smirk watching him attempt to eat his soup with his left hand. “You’re not used to being helpless, are you?”

“I hate it,” Negan grumbled after swallowing down a spoonful of his soup. “The doctor told me that I need to wear the sling for a few days, but I’m not allowed to use the arm for two weeks and that my injury might take twelve to sixteen weeks for it to heal completely since I’m older. As far as my ribs, the doc said that should heal on its own in about six weeks, but I’m not allowed to be super active. I’m not a very lazy person.”

“I’m sure Maria will be able to find things for you to do while you are on break,” Y/N was eating her soup with Negan and for the most part they were quiet. She was wondering if Negan would ever bring up the kisses from the night before. At this point he wasn’t even acting like it happened. Maybe that was a good thing, especially after how Joel had been acting this morning. “I think me almost dying made Joel…change.”

“Good, it’s about time that he did,” Negan grumbled taking another bite of the soup that Maria had brought them. “I hope he sticks with it now. You’re a fucking unicorn. One in a million and he needs to treat you as such.”

“That is so weird that you called me that,” she snickered making his eyebrows bounce up when he gazed out at her. “I was obsessed with unicorns when I was a child. I no shit had this onesie that I used to run around in when I was a kid that was a unicorn. It was white with like pink and purple hooves.”

“Now I’m picturing you in that outfit right now,” Negan joked, his nose wrinkling in amusement and he shrugged his shoulders. “I think you’d make the cutest little unicorn.”

“Now you’re making fun of me,” she felt her cheeks flushing overhearing his deep rumble of laughter when she rolled her eyes and went back to eating. “I thought they were real Negan. I was deep in it. When school asked me to do a project on my favorite animal when I was a kid, I did the unicorn. Imagine how disappointed I was when they broke it to me that they weren’t real.”

“Well fuck them for taking away a child’s imagination,” Negan grumbled finishing up his soup before reaching for the pie that he was given. “Unicorns still exist. I would know because you’re one of them.”

“Stop,” she chuckled pushing at the soup that she still had left in her bowl.

“Hey, I wasn’t even a child and I wore a grumpy bear onesie for a while. My first wife got it for me as a joke and to be honest with ya, it was so comfortable I would wear it around sometimes,” Negan informed her enjoying the smile that he got out of her when he told her that. “We should find your boyfriend one. It would suit him very well.”

“You are going to get punched if you keep it up with that whole Mr. Grumpy Pants thing,” she warned him making Negan chuckle and bob his head about. “I swear, he can only take so much because he is…well, he’s…”

“Grumpy,” Negan finished hearing her laugh out before covering her mouth. “You love him, but he is grumpy as shit. We both know it.”

“He is a little grumpy,” she agreed with Negan seeing him wink before taking a bite of the pie that was on his plate. His nose wrinkled when he swallowed down the bite and sighed. “Yeah, maybe they should let me help make the food here because these ladies aren’t...great with their pies.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” Y/N ate the rest of her lunch and when Negan got up to put away the plates that he could carry with his left, she heard him yelp out when he reached the sink and it made her jump up. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I stepped on a goddamn Lego. I hate those fucking things,” Negan looked down and huffed out making her laugh at his answer. “That shit ain’t funny Y/N. I would rather break my ribs and dislocate my shoulder than step on these fucking things. They hurt.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she got up from the table and moved around the counter to see the Lego that was on the floor that he had stepped on with his bare feet. Reaching down, she picked it up and set it on the counter. Her eyes fell to the Lego set that was there noticing that it was a Star Wars themed toy. Reaching for it, she picked it up and held it out to him. “You a big Star Wars fan?”

“Oh, we’re huge Star Wars fans in this house,” Negan explained with a wink before going back to do his best with the dishes that he had with his one hand. “Be careful with that. My ass will get kicked if that gets broken. We worked on that sucker forever. I traded well for that one.”

“Leather jacket wearing, video gamer that likes comics and Star Wars. Gets along well with kids and is a former schoolteacher,” Y/N repeated everything she had learned about Negan recently. “I’ve learned more about you in the last week than I have in my whole time knowing you. How is that Negan? You talk a ton.”

“Ah yes, but I don’t talk about myself and shit,” Negan waved his hand about when he turned and leaned back against the counter. It made her feel bad seeing Negan like he was with the sling on his arm and in pain. His face looked sore and he looked absolutely exhausted. “I’m better to talk to anyways. Plus, you may be a little self-absorbed.”

“What?” she blurt out hearing the wicked laugh that followed. “Am I?”

“Sometimes, but aren’t we all? I was so fucking arrogant for most of my life. I think I just got sick of it. So don’t think I’m judging you because anything you are, I was so much worse in my past,” Negan placed his good hand to his chest and he could see that she was embarrassed. “Hey, don’t let it bother you. Everything is fine.”

“I should know you better than I do,” she explained making Negan shrug and reach up to brush his fingers through his messy hair. “I just know that I like the person that you are. You’re my best friend and I need to start getting to know you better.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan smirked, his hazel eyes having the light from his window reflecting in them. “We’re working on it.”

“Have you iced your ribs yet today?” she mentioned making Negan smirk before shaking his head. “Well, then let’s get you some ice on those ribs.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan repeated knowing that she had seen the old-fashioned ice pack they had given him. Watching her fill it, Negan cleared his throat and shook his head. “You don’t have to take care of me you know.”

“I know,” she muttered, reaching to help him walk back into the living room. Helping him lay down, she placed the ice pack in place and heard him gasp. It made her smirk when Negan’s long eyelashes fluttered up at her. Brushing her fingers through his dark hair, she shrugged and looked to the door. “I should let you get some rest. Is there anything you need me to do for you before I leave?”

“Can you get rid of a headache?” Negan quipped making her nod. “I was kidding.”

“You have a washcloth around here?” she saw Negan’s eyes narrow and he nodded pointing toward the hallway.

“Linen closet in the bathroom. First door on the right,” Negan answered, closing his eyes while he laid down and waited. Hearing her footsteps, Negan smirked until he gasped when he felt a damp warmth covering his eyes and forehead. Y/N had obviously gotten a washcloth wet with warm water for him and it made him snort. “What the hell?”

“It helps,” she reached out to squeeze her hand in over his. “Get some rest. I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll be a good boy, I promise,” Negan gave her hand a final squeeze before feeling her pulling away. Listening to the sound of her footsteps leaving, he sighed and got more comfortable. After a few minutes he could hear someone at his door again. This time they didn’t knock and he heard the door being pushed open. “I really need to sleep so…”

Tensing up, Negan felt someone moving in beside him and with the washcloth over his eyes he couldn’t see who was touching him. Flinching, he felt the soft, tender sweep of fingers over his jawline, “Relax…”

With a shuddering breath, Negan heard Y/N’s voice surround him and he felt his body calming down knowing that it was her. His lips parted when he felt the pad of her thumb stroking over his bottom lip. He didn’t move so the cloth remained over his eyes and he felt the warmth of her lips hovering over his. With ease, her lips covered his surprising him. The kiss lingered and he knew that he shouldn’t have, but he kissed her back. Each caress of her lips over his felt enhanced without the sense of sight for him. Their breathing got louder when the kiss grew in strength. A growl fell deep within his throat when her tongue flicked at the inside of his bottom lip drawing out sensations from him that he hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

Brushing his tongue against hers, Negan felt her suck faintly at his tongue making him hum in response. With one final kiss, Negan felt her pull away just slightly. Her lips were lingering over his making him take in a sharp breath.

“You’re dreaming,” she whispered the same thing he did the night before. Another faint kiss was pressed over his lips making a muscle in the corner of his jaw flex. “When you wake up, you’ll realize this wasn’t real.”

With a nod, Negan felt his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat when her fingertips traced over the side of his face and through his short beard, “Just know Negan, if things were different, I would have no problem falling in love with you. You’re an incredible man.”

Negan’s lips parted and he felt like he wanted to say something, but he knew he shouldn’t when he heard a loud exhale fall from her lips, “That’s the last dream kiss. I promise. Enjoy your rest Negan.”

Not saying anything, Negan heard her get up and he stayed still. When she left and he heard the door close behind her, he let out an exaggerated sound. Reaching up with his good hand, he pulled the cloth from over his eyes and set it on his chest. Dragging his thumb out over his bottom lip, he felt his heart skip a beat knowing that he still tasted her against his lips.

“Shit,” Negan huffed knowing that he had avoided last night as much as he possibly could, but now having her kiss him like this a second time made him feel things he knew he shouldn’t. And her kissing him again, it sure as hell wasn’t helping.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @insertneganhere @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @nt-multi-fandom @tone-stark @chloepricerk800 @thesapphirequeen @wonwoosthetic

#Pedro Pascal #Joel Miller #Negan #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #The Walking Dead #The Last of Us #Joel Miller x reader #Negan x reader #twd fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #Joel Miller fanfiction #Negan fanfiction

252 notes · View notes

iruinn · 6 months

Text

every breath of yours is a prayer to my temple ❀ iwaizumi hajime x reader

summary :

Iwaizumi has no soulmarks. He is fine with this. Iwaizumi is also a liar.

cw : smut (mild degradation, unprotected sex)

general tags/notes : OOCness, oikawa/female OC(not reader!), some one-sided pining on iwaizumi's part, as always unbeta read.

read on ao3 here

wc : 6656

MINORS DNI! ty

There are a few unshakeable facts Iwaizumi has always known, as steady as the sun rising in the east.

His mom and dad are extremely, almost disgustingly in love. Their matching timers (both reading 00:00:00, the countdown having finished far before Hajime was barely a twinkle in his parents' eyes) displayed proudly,

Oikawa Tooru is his best friend. Despite the soulmark on his upper back (A black crown, standing out against his pale skin), Oikawa has always insisted on Hajime being first in his life. From when they were young, knobbly knees bumping into each other on bus rides back home to now, as he feels of the volleyball reaching his palm perfectly as he smashes it to the other side of the court, its always been Tooru and Hajime.

Iwaizumi doesn't have a soulmate.

"I mean," Matsukawa mutters. "Maybe it's just not the type of soulmark that manifests until you meet your soulmate? I've heard of soulmarks like those, rare as they are."

Iwaizumi doesn't know about that. Wouldn't he have felt the presence of a soulmate? Don't people always talk about how they feel a piece of themselves missing until they meet their other half?

"Hey, maybe that feeling is just due to the expectation of knowing your soulmate is somewhere out there, you know? Like, you don't actually feel anything but you think you do because you're so conditioned to missing a part of yourself." Hanamaki throws out his hands, spreading them like he had just impressed the wisdom of the ages upon them. Iwaizumi snorts, shaking his head.

"Dude, I think you're delusional."

The comment earns him a punch to the shoulder, but he just shakes it off, dodging Hanamaki's fists. It didn't matter, anyway. He didn't really need a soulmate. He had his team, and he had volleyball. Things were fine as they were, and Iwaizumi would be happy if they continued like this, always. The setting sun behind their backs, as he slung his arms around Oikawa's shoulders, grabbing him in a headlock and ruffling up his disgustingly perfect hair, the laughter of his friends in the spring air.

He should have known it was too good to last.

The beginning of the end started with her, he thinks.

A new manager, after their last one had graduated. She slotted into their life, neatly and without pause, like a missing puzzle piece that they didn't realize was missing until it was before them.

She immediately incited a feeling of overprotectiveness in the team. She laughed along to Hanamaki's and Mattsun's jokes, listened patiently to the excitable first years, and was immediately there to calm him down when he got too angry at Oikawa's flippishness, and recognized when Oikawa was overworking himself and put her foot down to stop him. (Even if it didn't work. Not much could stop Oikawa when he was determined.)

His breath caught in his throat, as his team members had thrown sideway glances at him, knowing he was in the same situation. She notices their attention, and looks at him questioningly too.

And yet, for all her cheerfulness, there were moments where she was overcome by a weird melancholy. Times when she glimpsed the soulmark on Oikawa's back, when his shirt rode up too high, when she noticed Yahaba's nose sometimes bleeding on its own (of all the soulmarks, a shared pain one was definitely an absolute pain in the ass), when she noticed the easy energy between Hanamaki and Matsukawa-

The entire team had noticed, especially Oikawa, who was always doted a lot more on her during those moments. His coy yells of "Manager-chan~" almost always succeeded those moments, as he would proceed to badger her and distract her.

It's an overnight training camp, over barbeque where she opens up, her voice carrying among the silence underneath the stars.

"I don't have a soulmate. Never will, I think."

"Ah, that's okay. I don't have one either. But I've never really felt the need for one anyway." He coughs, his ears turning red at the scrutiny. She observes him quietly and quirks an eyebrow.

"We're in the same boat, Iwaizumi-kun! We have to stick together then!"

He raises his skewer to her in a mimicry of a toast, relishing the sound of her laughter.

Hajime wonders if he's allowed to feel more for her. Was it worth mangling their dynamic so he could reach out and push one of her flowing strands of hair behind her ear? To reach down and take her lips, cupping the back of her neck in his palm? Was he made for her, their unmarked bodies in harmony with each other?

That day results in a change. Oikawa and Iwaizumi become Oikawa, Iwaizumi and her. She joins them on their walks home now, linking her arms with theirs, as she laughs at him and Oikawa ribbing each other. Their movie nights now have her sprawled across Oikawa's lap, her legs in his as they relentlessly mocked bad horror movies together, throwing popcorn at each other. She watches, water bottles and towels at ready as they relentlessly practice serves and spikes.

The best things come in threes, don't they?

This friendship of his, their trio, was so precious to him, and he wanted it to remain unbroken. He would push down his feelings for her if he had to protect it.

Their third and final year of high school arrives with a rush, and with it a sense of finality. The last year of volleyball he'd enjoy with his team, and their final chance to enter the Nationals. The insurmountable wall that was Shiratorizawa loomed over them as always, but this year would be different. It had to be.

Karasuno was a surprise. Seeing the grumpy kid that used to lurk around Oikawa now become a monstrous setter an extremely unpleasant one, watching Oikawa's anger at the prodigy gutting. But this was just another opponent to crush on their way to the nationals, and he ensured that his spikes were at their fiercest. Karasuno is vanquished, but he knows that the team is stumbling and will be scary once they find their wings. He thinks Oikawa has realized it too.

The tiny middle blocker from Karasuno makes him feel...weird. A yearning he didn't think was possible to feel. He's mildly insulted that its the annoying chibi of all people that brings it out of him.

Matsukawa laughs and laughs. "Hey, maybe he's your soulmate?"

Oikawa's head whips around, and walks up he grips Iwaizumi's head between his hands. "If your soulmate is Tobio's minion, I will never forgive you, Iwa-chan!" Iwaizumi sputters, headbutting him. "Shittykawa, you'd think it'd be a bit more obvious if he was!"

Iwaizumi wonders when he became Tooru-kun to her.

Their manager watches them both wrestle, a smile on her face. "Tooru-kun and me will support you no matter what, you know that right?"

"Ah, Iwa-chan...we're together now."

The world ends on a Thursday.

Iwaizumi knew he should have stayed in bed today. Her nervous stride as she slinks up to him forms a strange pit in his stomach. The pink spots of color high up on her cheekbones, her face fighting off a smile. The way Oikawa walks alongside her, her arms linked to his. The way he feels like an intruder now, a voyeur to moments he shouldn't be witnessing.

He knows what Oikawa is about to say even before he opens his mouth.

He wonders how he didn't see it before. She covers her face with her hands, blushing furiously, but Oikawa continues looking at him, waiting for something.

Iwaizumi smiles, punches his best friend in the shoulder lightly. It's okay. Maybe things could still be the same. He turns to her and snorts. "You sure you want to put up with this dumbass?"

They laugh together, the tension dissipating. He walks with them, but the distance between them has widened. A bitter part of Iwaizumi wonders why Oikawa had to go for her when he had his own soulmate, but he knows that is a selfish thought. He wonders how much of his feelings was solely because they both happened to lack soulmates.

Oikawa whines, a relieved look crossing his face, so quickly that Iwaizumi wonders if he imagined it. "Iwa-chan, you're so mean! You're still number 1 in my heart, you know?"

"Shittykawa, have you taken one too many volleyballs to the face or something?"

It would be nice, he thinks. To have someone to call his own. He watches his best friends as they shyly steal glances at each other, faces red, and despite that bitterness he hopes they're happy together. And maybe if she met someone despite not having a soulmate, he could too.

Iwaizumi curses as he strides down the corridor, knowing he's late. Oikawa had slunk away somewhere, and the next match was theirs, but their coach sends him away to track down their captain. The spring tournament is their last chance at Nationals, and he is extremely high strung already.

Where had he seen that before? It comes to him in a rush, and he realizes she's a Karasuno student.

He's too lost in his thoughts to notice the whirlwind barreling down his path, their collision imminent. He notices the girl a second too late, and he struggles to halt his stride, but she crashes into him, sending them both to the floor.

"Shit,can't you see where you're going??" He yells, and the lump on top of him groans, slowly lifting its head from his chest. He notices her uniform first, the familiarity striking.

The second thing he notices is her forehead and part of her cheek glowing different colours, iridescent. She looks down at him from her position and yelps, her expression going from annoyance to shock as she stares at his face. He feels his heart beating faster, his eyes refusing to leave those glowing marks, watching as they slowly fade away.

He straightens, grabbing her raised hand, and the places where their skin touches flares to life with color.

She's the most beautiful person he's ever seen, he realizes.

He sits up, and she flushes red, realizing she's on his lap. She still doesn't move, and raises her hand slowly. He watches, frozen, as she pokes his cheek, almost in a trance. She pulls her finger away, and he notices it's glowing, orange and red. She looks at her finger and at his cheek, and he feels the place she poked him blaze with warmth. He thinks it could burn a hole in him.

There are a few unshakeable facts Iwaizumi thought he'd always known. They might not have been as immovable as he thought they were.

Oikawa Tooru is his best friend. It's not just Tooru and Hajime anymore, but maybe that's okay.

Iwaizumi doesn't have might have desperately hopes he's not mistaken has a soulmate.

You have a soulmate.

At least, you think you do. You throw the volleyball to your cousin, watching him stumble to receive it.

"What makes you so sure you do, (name)?" Hinata asks, curious. He tosses the ball back to you and you catch it cleanly, spinning it on a finger. You think it's a fair question. After all, you don't have a soulmark, unlike Hinata.

"It's just a feeling, you know?" You shrug. "Like I just know there's someone out there for me." You drop the ball, flopping onto the grass under you, and your cousin bounds up to you, throwing his arms around your neck. You pat his fluffy orange hair, feeling a rush of affection. "Of course, it's just a feeling. I'm not as lucky as you, to have such a pretty soul mark."

Hinata scrambles away from you, lifting his shirt and grimacing. The golden fox is bright, and you wonder what kind of person it belongs to. They must certainly be somewhat flashy, and you're very curious to see how they'd fit your cousin.

You giggle, getting up and brushing the grass off your shorts, pulling Hinata up with you. "Come on nerd, let's go get some more practice in before Auntie calls us for dinner."

"Blech! I don't care about soulmates anyway! I just want to play some volleyball! I'm gonna play before I graduate middle school, I swear!"

You believe him. There's very little your cousin can't do when he puts his mind to it. You shoot him a thumbs up and he grins at you. "For what its worth, I think you have a soulmate too! They have to be a really cool person, though, or I'm fighting them off!"

He cheers, and you follow him, your spirits high.

You've lived with your aunt and cousins for as long as you've remembered. Your parents had died when you were really young, and your mother's sister had taken you in. You got along with your cousins like a house on fire, immediately charmed by Hinata and Natsu. Despite the two year difference between you and Hinata, you both were really close, and you went along with most of his whims, encouraging his interest in volleyball and practicing with him outside your house , throwing the ball at him for hours on end, while Natsu cheered you both on.

You were happy when he decided to join the same school you were in, even though you'd both only get to share one year together, since you're already in your last year of high school. You both cycle to school together on the first day, and you listen to him chatter away about joining the volleyball club. You remember that the volleyball club at your school didn't have a lot of success, but you hope your cousin has a good time regardless.

The next day, you laugh high and loud when Daichi grabs you and shakes you, calling your cousin a menace. You know he'd grow on Daichi eventually. The competition the captain had set certainly explained the fervor with which Hinata had practiced back home.

Reaching school, you see the captain of the team is in your class, Daichi. You're pretty friendly with him and you stride up to him, leaning on his back. He yelps in surprise, then grins back at you when he notices you. "(name), hey! We're in the same class again!"

You smirk, bumping fists with him. "I can't believe we're in our last year of high school already! It feels like yesterday, stumbling into class in out first year..."

He sighs. "Yeah, it's our last shot at making something of the volleyball team too."

"Speaking off..." You trail off, and he looks at you, curious. "My baby brother is in his first year of high school and he might be, no scratch that, he's definitely applying to the team. Be nice to him, okay?"

He raises an eyebrow. "I make no promises. Is he any good at playing?"

You shrug. "He's short and spunky, real fast. I think he can do anything he puts his mind to, he's just a bit....over excitable."

You're not surprised when he becomes a full fledged member of the team.

You try to keep up with your cousin's matches, but your own classes and your determination to get into a good college had you busy for most of the days. You did always make time for when he talked about his matches against the other schools and his own rival/teammate, Kageyama.

You notice immediately when he comes home one day from a match, quiet. You tilt your head at him questioningly, and he plops down next to you on the ground, sprawling over you.

"Get off, you lump!" You giggle, pushing him aside, and he whines. "We won today, a practise match against a team. Aobajohsai."

You fistbump him, but he's clearly out of it, returning it with much less enthusiasm than he normally would. "You're..not as excited as I thought you would be about that."

He sits up, shaking his head. "I am! But their captain didn't join until the very last set, and he was scary."

"Want me to come to your next match against them and beat him up?" You grin, flashing your muscles (they're very pitiful muscles, unfortunately), and he snorts. "Nah, we'll just win against them again next time! I'm gonna be the best decoy ever!"

You mildly worry over what Daichi was making your brother do. A decoy? At least he still looked extremely excited about it. You think he wants to tell you about something else, but he shakes the thought away, and you decide to let him be.

The following weeks bring with it the interhigh, and you hear the volleyball team has been doing pretty well, winning their first two matches. You wave at the team one morning when they're heading out, looking extremely nervous, and you giggle at the second years that immediately pounce on Hinata, asking him how they knew you. You wish them luck, before heading into your school. You're sure they'll bring about another victory.

It's a surprise when Hinata comes home late at night, his eyes red and face rubbed. You bite your lip, realising what happened and watch him absent mindedly fool around with the ball.

"Want to talk about it?

He sniffs, rubbing his eyes. "We lost. To the grand king." You tsk. You're not sure who the grand king is, though.

"Was it close?" He nods, and you put an arm around his shoulder, bringing him into a hug. "You'll get them next time. There isn't much that can keep you down, and your team looks crazy enough to be the same." You think he knows this already, but you're a supportive big sister and you'll give him all the reassurance and praise he deserves.

He perks up, like he's remembering something. "Oh yeah, (name)! There's a spiker on Aobajohsai who makes me feel weird? His spikes are so cool, they're like BWAAH but he feels very familiar to me somehow..."

You were halfway to the kitchen, ready to pull out a knife when he said this spiker felt weird, but that explanation was even more bewildering. "Maybe he's your soulmate?" You wonder out loud, and he shakes his head resolutely. "He isn't, I'm sure. Besides, he doesn't really feel like a fox...."

You point out that his actual soulmate might not feel like one too, but it falls on deaf ears. The conversation is derailed with the both of you discussing whether Hinata's soulmark meant that his soulmate would be a foxy person, and you poke and tease at his red cheeks.

You shake your pom poms at Daichi and Kiyoko, questioningly. "You know, I came here to support my brother, not to become a de facto cheerleader for your baby nerds."

You had a free day from classes, and decided to accompany the volleyball team to their Spring high. You were already beginning to regret the decision when Kiyoko and the other tiny manager had procured a couple of pom-poms mysteriously from nowhere, pressing them onto you.

Daichi gives you a thumbs up, enthusiastically. "(name), supporting our team as a cheer leader IS supporting Hinata. We're all a team!"

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously, glancing at Kiyoko, but she just shrugs at you. "Whatever gets them hyped up."

Resigned, you're glad you decided to doll yourself up a bit for the matches. You'd make the other teams jealous of Hinata for having a cute cheerleader on their side. You nod, resolutely, holding back a grimace when you notice the team looking extremely nervous.

They would be fine...right?

You decide to go hunt down some stomach medicine for the freckled first year, who looked like he was a second away from blowing his breakfast all over the court. Throwing a salute to Kiyoko, you stride away, breaking into a quick jog down the corridors when you hear the announcer.

You crash into someone at full speed, and you have just enough time to yell out an "Oh shit!" before you take the person down, landing on top of them. The first thing your brain notices is how hard and muscly the body under you is, and you find yourself turning red, pushing yourself up on the boy quickly, stopping when you see his face.

He's...really handsome. You're kind of mad at how handsome he is. Thick furrowed eyebrows, cute spiky hair, and body built like a brickhouse, and tan cheeks dusted with a pink, that was probably mirroring yours.

Except...his chin and most of his neck is glowing with a really pretty combination of blue and purple. It looks kind of silly, but they fade away even as you watch. The boy sits up in a hurry, and the position ends up with you on his lap, and you feel your face getting hotter. You look down and notice your own hands are also covered in a weird glow.

What the...

You raise your hand to his face, unable to stop yourself. You had a hypothesis, and your brain was running at a hundred miles an hour.

The boy watches you as you press a finger to his face, feeling his warm skin. You pull your finger away and it blazes a bright orange, the spot where you pressed against his cheek also glowing, like a facsimile of a highlight.

He grabs your hand, and the both of you stare at your interlocked hands, the colors forming slowly where your skin touches.

Well. You're glad your suspicions about having a soulmate didn't let you down. You kind of think you hit the jackpot with him too, considering he was one of the hottest people you've ever seen.

His face is blazing red. "What..?"

Ah.

"I did not mean to say that loud..." You realize you're still on his lap, and you scramble back. He snorts, getting up, and pulling yourself up with him. You note he still hasn't let go of your hand.

The announcer blares out, and the both of you jump like you're struck by lightning, the dreamy moment broken. He straightens, and points to you.

"After my match." He looks over you, and winces, remembering something. "You're a Karasuno student, huh...I'm pretty sure our next match is against your team. I'll find you after we win."

You puff up in indignation. The audacity!

"My baby brother and his team are going to kick your ass!" You stomp your feet, turning around to storm away, your hair whipping around your face. You feel a hand wrap around your upper arm as he pulls you back into him, snorting in amusement at your anger.

"You're also really pretty, by the way." You huff, looking around for people before reaching in and pressing a quick kiss to his cheeks, extremely light and quick, the only hint of it the light glow on his cheek that fades away in a second. You wonder if your lips are tinted. You guess they are, from the way he stares at them.

"Charmer. I'll see you later. Sorry about rooting against you."

You escape his grasp while he's still shocked from your kiss, winking at him. You had a nervous team to cheer for.

You hunt down your soulmate after the match. You had explained to Hinata quickly what had happened before the match started, and he nodded at you understandingly when you slink away from the celebrating team. You find a lone figure sitting on a bench, head bent, and you sigh, hoisting up the moist towels in your arm, glad you came prepared.

You sneak up to him, wrapping a towel around his neck, and he whips his head at you in shock, before relaxing and realizing who it was.

"Come to gloat?" He asks, before a regretful look crosses his face.

You move in front of him, holding his face in your hands. You watch his cheeks glow as you rub your fingers across them gently. It's weird how comfortable you are with doing that, but he didn't seem bothered by it either so you aren't going to stop.

"I'm going to ignore that because I understand that you're sad. For what it's worth, you were really cool out there."

"We still lost."

"Karasuno's pretty scary now, huh." You grin, proudly, and he lets out a sigh. "My brother, Hinata. He's the spunky middle blocker."

Okay, maybe you were gloating a bit. But today was the first time you saw them in action, and they were a lot more intense and good than you expected. You didn't know a lot about volleyball, but the stuff they were doing definitely looked super cool. You kind of understood Hinata's descriptors of 'BWAAH' and 'BOOM' now to describe their moves.

"That kid is your brother? That explains some things.." You look at him questioningly, and he shakes his head at you.

"I'm not gonna ask, I think. Iwaizumi, right?"

He's startled, realizing he doesn't even know your name. You introduce yourself to him, and he mouths your name, voicing it out.

"It's Hajime to you. You're my soulmate."

You grin at him, pulling him up from the bench. "Hajime, then. You know, there's a silver lining to your team losing today." He grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers. You lean onto him cheerfully. "What is it?"

"You get to be comforted by your soulmate, of course! Let's go get some dinner, on me!"

Clearly cheered up by the prospect, he smiles at you, and you feel your heart flutter. Seriously, you must have saved a country in your previous life to get a soulmate this cute. You were determined to stain him with every color of the rainbow all over his body by the end of today.

He pulls you along. "Let me introduce you to my team first." You walk alongside him, wrapping yourself around his arm, needling at him to explain to you volleyball terms, the colors at the junction of where your skin meets his as bright as the setting sun.

There are a few unshakeable facts to his life that Hajime knows will never change.

Oikawa Tooru is his best friend. When he introduces you to him, you cheerfully exclaim "Grand king! I think I'm supposed to beat you up!" and Oikawa sputters. Hajime doesn't hold back his laughter as Oikawa pouts, but you're paying more attention to Hajime, distracted by his laughter, moving in again to brush your fingers across his cheek.

Hajime loves seeing the colors appear on you. He loves the different shades they take, how they perfectly look like the imprint of his fingers when he presses them into your waist, when he grips the back of your neck and kisses you, when he brushes them across your forehead. He especially loves seeing them on your lips. He thinks they probably look a bit ridiculous to other people with their stained lips, but to him its the most endearing thing he's ever seen.

You also love seeing the colors on him. You've always been a bit possessive of your belongings, and Hajime is yours in a way no one else will ever be. You love watching the colors appear on his arms as you grip them, wrapping yourself around him as you both walk together. You also adore pressing kisses to his cheeks and lips, surprising him almost every time you do it. You know the marks you leave on his neck sometimes last much for an entire day, and you know he deals with the ribbing from his teammates every time they see it. It just entices you to leave more.

Most of all, Hajime knows that his soulmate loves him.

The colours dance around your boyfriend’s chest, as you trail your fingers down it. You’re lying on top of him, your arm crossed and supporting your head on his stomach, as you entertain yourself.

You pout when he stays asleep, dead to the world. Apparently your naughty shenanigans last night had knocked him out good, and you’re kind of proud of yourself for it.

But that was neither here nor there, and right now you wanted his attention. You moved up, biting his cheek, and he jostles awake with surprise, closing his eyes again when he realizes it’s just you.

“Go back to sleep then, baby.”

“Brat…”

You giggle, tweaking his nose.“I’m bored, Hajime.”

With a groan, you bury your face in his neck, enjoying his warmth and smell. “Don’t wanna. You’re so busy with your team…it feels like forever since we’ve been like this.”

He’s silent at your words, his hands coming down and squeezing your thighs, pulling at them. “Hey…I’m sorry about that. You’ve given up so much for me and I’ve repaid you by being too busy to spend time with you...”

You raise your head, frowning, and flick his forehead. “Ow!”

“Idiot!” Your cheeks puff up in anger. “You’re following your dreams, Hajime. It’s so fucking cool that you’re a trainer for the Olympics team now. You don’t have to apologize to me for anything. You’re my soulmate and I love you.”

He stares at you, his expression warm. Bending down, his lips brush across your cheeks lightly, and you giggle at the feeling. “I don’t deserve you.” He pulls back, watching the colour dance across your cheeks and nose where his lips brushed your face, before fading away.

You scoff at him. “You deserve the best.”

“And that’s you?”

“Of course it is.” You poke your tongue out at him. “What’s got you in such a melancholic mood today?” Any other time with you naked on him would have led to a lot of teasing and groping by now. He’s holding himself back.

“I met Tooru today.”

“Oh?” You sit up on his chest, curiously, and he supports you without any effort, his hands moving up to your waist.

“He told me he found out who his soulmate is, love.”

“But isn’t he still dating that manager of yours from high school..?” Hajime nods, and you whistle. “He’s pretty conflicted about the whole thing. He feels really bad for leaving his soulmate alone, but he’s been dating her for as long as we have. He thought they’d make it.” You’re silent at first. “So this is what’s gotten you worried?”

“He’s my best friend and I’ve been worrying about him forever..I’ve rarely seen him this broken up about things.”

You run your fingers over his hard stomach and chest comfortingly. “He’ll figure it out, Hajime. He always has.” Admittedly, you’ve always been a skeptic of him and his girlfriend. You frown at the thought. Hajime had told you pretty early on about his feelings for her and you often thought about how you would have felt if you had met Hajime while he was dating her instead. And now someone else was in that position.

Your boyfriend knows you well, and immediately knows where your mind is heading. He picks up your hand with his, interlocking your fingers and kissing it. “Idiot. I’m here with you now.” You slap at his chest.

“I know! I can’t believe you ever thought you didn’t have a soulmate.”

His fingers pinch at your thigh and you yelp in surprise. “My apologies, princess. Not all of us can have the same self-confidence you did when you thought you had a soulmate. I didn’t even have a mark.”

“And now you’re covered with them all the time.”

He knows that if he looked down where your body met his, it’d be glowing with different colours. The colours themselves were sometimes bright, sometimes muted, sometimes they’d last for hours and sometimes they would fade away after he took his hands off you, so quickly it’s like they were never there.

You’ve tested the way the colours appear extensively (intentionally and unintentionally…you’ve always found it hard to keep your hands off him) but you’ve never discovered any sort of pattern. You both concluded that it was just random, if pretty.

“Totally not embarrassing having to show up for training with orange marks all over my neck. You know your cousin is on the team, right?”

You giggle unapologetically at him. “Just think of it as revenge for whatever PDA Hinata and Atsumu throw at you. I know it’s a lot.”

Your boyfriend groans at the very thought. “I have lost count of the amount of times I’ve spiked balls into their heads to interrupt them. I thought we were bad. Most of the team is very traumatized.”

You coo at him. “My poor baby. We are definitely worse and you know it.”

He snorts. “I’ll show you worse.”

He lifts you, both hands going around your waist, making you support yourself on your knees. You start to complain before you’re silenced quickly, your words cutting off into a moan as he releases one hand from your waist to rub you, experienced fingers finding your clit quickly.

You’ve been together for quite a while, and know each other’s bodies as well as your own by now. It doesn’t take him long to work you up into a frenzy, his fingers entering you.

“You’re so wet already for me, you cute little slut.” He stretches you, his fingers scissoring. “Just look at that.”

He withdraws them from inside you and you whine in annoyance at the sudden emptiness, your thighs shaking. You flush red looking at the juices from you coating his fingers.

“Hajime…please.”

“Hmm? Please what?” You’re annoyed at how unbothered he looks lying down in comparison to your flustered self, and you poke at his chest. He repays you with a spank to your ass, and you yelp in surprise. “Behave. And use your words. I know that pretty mouth has its uses other than moaning for me.”

You’re pouting, but you’re enjoying this tremendously, and he knows it. Nothing gets you hot and bothered more than your boyfriend going all authoritative on you.

“I need you in me..”

You sit back down on him, feeling him hot and hard right under you. Moving back and forth slowly, you grind on him, covering him in slick.

You pick up the hand of his that was inside you, inserting his fingers in your mouth and tasting yourself on him. He grips your cheek, dislodging your hands.

“Shit..shit, okay.”

He lets go of your face, lifting you again slightly, before entering you. Your body arched as he pushed the head of the shaft in, your wetness offering little resistance. You both groan in unison as you bottom out. “Can’t hold myself back against you, baby girl.”

You giggle as you feel his thickness fill you out. You supported your hands on his stomach as you began to move up again slowly, and gasped as his hips surged up to meet yours with ease.

Hajime runs his hands down your body, his fingers tweaking at your nipples, grinning at the temporary stain of colour that covered them. You looked ever so pretty on his dick, bouncing up and down, covered in the colours that marked you solely as his. Your eyes are closed, your hair flowing down your back, the sounds of your skin slapping against his intermixed with the soft sound of rain outside your window.

He continues moving his hips slowly, the warmth of you covering him so well it’s driving him a little bit insane. He takes the opportunity while your eyes are closed to reach a single arm out to the side where the nightstand drawer is, extracting something he’d been keeping hidden for a while.

You’re in heaven, as he hit your sweet spots, filling you out so well, your pussy clenching around him tight. You startle as he picks up your hand lying on his chest and you feel something cold moving down your finger.

“What..?”

Your eyes fly open, looking down to where he’s interlocked your fingers with his. Your eyes lock onto the shiny band now adorning your fingers, the rock on it glittering. You pause moving, your brain trying to catch up. You meet his eyes, and they’re warm with his love, the unasked question in the air.

“You’re…you’re such an idiot, Hajime!” You gasp out, tears springing into your eyes. A hint of worry is in his expression as he notices your damp eyes. “Sweetheart..?”

“Hurry up and cum in me so I can admire my new ring! Who proposes during sex? We’re gonna get my sweat all over it!”

You whine, and he laughs, sitting up, leaning against the headboard. He grips your waist as your arms fly around his neck, and kisses you as he speeds up, gripping your ass. “I love you.” His lips continue to move across your face, kissing away your tears, swallowing your moans, until they finally latch onto your neck, as he bites and sucks at it. Your nails dig into his back. “I’m close, Hajime-“

“I got you, baby, it’s okay.”

You bury your face in his shoulders as you climax, feeling your cum mix with his as he empties himself inside you, the mixture of fluids leaking out. You shiver as you both take a moment to get a hold of yourselves, and he adjusts himself again, whispering praises into your ear as he falls back onto the bed ,taking you down with him, still inside you. You lie down on his chest, panting, feeling his move up and down with you as he kisses the top of your head.

You turn your head to the side when you’ve caught your breath, bringing up your hand to your face and examining the ring on it.

“I swear I had a proper proposal all planned out.” He grabs your hand, rubbing across it with his thumb. “I was going to take you out to a fancy dinner, get on my knees, go the whole way. Bribe the waiter to put the ring in champagne.”

You flush at his words, feeling your eyes dampen again. “You’re making me tear up again.”

“You looked so pretty right there. I couldn’t resist.” He kisses your hand gently. “I’m sorry for not making it fancier.”

“It’s perfect.” You lift your head, joining your lips to his. “I’d marry you right now if I could. I like the sound of Mrs. Iwaizumi a lot…”

He hisses, turning you both to your sides, hooking your leg around his. “You’re going to get me going again if you call yourself that.”

You laugh. “So eager to wife me up, Hajime?”

“Have been for years, baby girl.” Gripping at your thighs, he pulls himself out of you, admiring the sight of your cum and his dripping out of you. You wince at the feeling of the liquids cooling between your thighs, and he notices, getting out of bed and lifting you in his arms. “Shower first, though.”

“Ooooh.” You wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you in, hooking your head on his shoulder and admiring your hand with the ring. “So husbandly already, Mr. Iwaizumi~”

You hear his smile as the door shuts behind you and he places you on the bathroom counter, leaning in. Your hand grips his hair as he nips at you, the two of you marking each other with the colours of the rainbow. “Anything for my future wife.”

#iwaizumi hajime x reader #woa! here be smut!#soulmate au #this is just rly fluffy and self indulgent like everything i ever write bshedjfgbdhrgdhgfbrdgf #i love soulmate aus...#sorry2 oikawa tooru hes going thru it in this au i think #keep ur head up king..#anyway enjoy!! aaaaaaaaaaaaa #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi hajime x you

50 notes · View notes

carmillaaaaaa · 1 month

Text

hellooooo rpc! it’s me, milla, on hands and knees begging for new rp partners on discord. i’m 22, living in the est, and my love for writing and sharing ideas, ships, plots, etc. may just make it into the dsm this year. i’ll be in your dms at 3am writing a 10 page thesis about our ocs with no (some) shame. i’ll send memes unprompted because “hey, it’s muse a/b.” i’ll collaborate on pinterest boards and spotify playlists. i’ll gush over your writing and the progression of our threads together. i’m obsessed, so if you’re at all similarly passionate then please know i’d love to give writing together a whirl! you’re welcome to like this for a dm from me or you can contact me first, no preference and no pressure <3

some additional info:

i love to make friends with my rp partners, but i won’t hold any expectations over you. we don’t have to immediately or even ever click ooc for us to write together.

i generally write in the 300-700 word range and can bump up to 1000+ but never down to one liners. i love to read and write inner thoughts, sensory scene setting, details and description. it’s not feasible for every post to be a banger, and no one strives to craft a magnum opus from this side hobby but i would like to see and provide more than he said/she said action. (text and social media threads notwithstanding of course!)

i try really hard to be approachable and open about activity. i’ll typically post once a week or two weeks. i do my best to communicate my availability and don’t begrudge (polite) check-ins at any point in time! that being said, we both have lives outside of this hobby. we can’t always give advance notice. sometimes shit hits the fan and stays there for a long while too. my only expectation is that you touch base when and as you can. if it’s days, weeks, months later, i understand. if you’d prefer not to give any background detail or explanation, you’re entitled to that. if it’s not any extraneous complication and your engagement is petering off because you’re not feeling the content we rp or my own conduct or anything addressable between the two of us, let’s talk!

i’m interested in rping a variety of things! romantic ships, love em. familial and platonic ships, also love em. multimuse, my favorite. smut, sure! just do note that i vastly prefer queer romances. i write smut but don't tend to focus on it overmuch. i’ll write in fandom universes but not with canons. i don’t like being pigeonholed into a dynamic either—please do not chase my dominant or male characters only. please do not reduce the dominant or male characters i do play as only those two aspects either. i really like fantasy and ride or die ships in particular, but otherwise i'm not too picky!

#discord 1x1 #1x1 discord #1x1 rp #1x1 rp search #oc rp #oc x oc #discord rp

20 notes · View notes

vigilskeep · 3 months

Note

Hiya, do u have a carrd or anything with info on your ocs? I love reading about ocs n all that crap but the tumblr search function is like actually evil. Keir seems super interesting but it’s like killing me trying to find posts to recap his lore 😭

i don’t i’m afraid!! it’s just his enormous mess of a tag as the lore built up... i might make something sometime??? i hadnt thought abt it tbh. in the meantime feel free to ask me any and all questions even if it’s something i’ve probably already said, i love going over this stuff and will do so forever if even slightly prompted. on that note, if it helps, here is a briefly condensed version:

keir is a red personality (aggressive/direct) non-mage hawke. i did his full playthrough as a warrior, i sometimes talk about switching him to rogue, but the only really important thing is that he’s a reaver and will bite you for real

he’s a man of few words, extremely blunt and threatening to the point of being absurdly over-the-top with pretty much all strangers, and much softer but still bluntly earnest with the small group of people he considers his own. he considers himself first and foremost a protector and would do anything to keep those people safe. his father malcolm was a strict man who raised him to do this and he accepted that wholeheartedly. consider him a guard dog. killed his first templar in defence of the family aged 15

he adores and idolises magic and fiercely supports mage freedom, though ultimately he would absolutely sacrifice a wider “cause” if doing so would keep his mages safe. fortunately or unfortunately, he can’t do that because the two are inextricable

he’s a proud fereldan and cares very little for kirkwall (hates kirkwall. hates kirkwall. someone please get him out of here) and its nobility, which tends to show in his appearance and behaviour. long braided hair, the streak across his nose is kaddis, and takes his mabari, silla, absolutely everywhere

he’s elf-blooded via his father, who was the bastard son of a fereldan elven servant girl and an orlesian chevalier who was with the occupation

his playthrough has circle mage bethany. he adores her and he would do anything for her but her acceptance of her fate and disillusionment with his overprotectiveness meant they had an increasingly strained relationship. it was because she was trapped that he couldn’t leave the city. once he was champion, meredith essentially had a knife to his sister’s throat whenever she wanted his compliance, not to mention the looming threat to anders and merrill, making those three years the worst and most terrifying in his life

he romances anders! friendmance and they escape kirkwall together in the end. not always easy but he really loves him, justice half included. there’s a lot of lore here ummm if i mention the “and they were housemates” timeline, that’s my silly mutual pining alternate version of events where anders moves into the amell estate for safekeeping before he and keir actually get together. if i mention aura hawke, that’s the potential daughter i occasionally hc for them

he had previous relationships with morrigan (in lothering as young 20-somethings) and merrill (during act 1). you cannot keep him away from those romanceable mages

he’s still close friends with merrill. isabela is his best friend. he has a complicated, semi-antagonistic friendship with varric, who was really closer with anders but now after the fact doesn’t want to remember that. he deeply respects and is friends with fenris. he did rivalry with sebastian, but in an agree-to-disagree way where they considered each other friends nonetheless until All That happened. he had a more genuine rivalry with aveline though still coloured by their trauma bonding

i THINK those are the main beats of his lore but he’s my most discussed and developed dragon age character so i’m sure i’ve missed some of the assorted junkyard of thoughts

#keir hawke

30 notes · View notes

elly99 · 6 months

Text

us without me VI: nothing

A story series from the perspective of Mia (fem!Reader/OC) as she goes through her memories and recounts falling in love with her best friend in high school, Minji. She suffers in silence until she breaks and it all comes crashing down.

Part 6 of 7. Check here for more details. Reading previous parts for context is encouraged. CW for language.

She was asleep. Lying on her side, turned away from you as you sat by the window. The moonlight was streaming through, casting a shadow on the spot in bed next to her, where you wanted to be. But right now there was nothing but empty sheets. And you were all alone in the dark.

You wondered if she wanted that space next to her filled. Filled with the warmth of someone she loved. You wondered if that could ever be you. Then you wonder why you even cared. Why you had these stupid feelings in the first place. It was all getting too much. You knew you had to do something. You had to tell her while she was still around. So under the light of the moon you write a note to her on your phone. Each word, each letter, every stroke of your thumbs like the twist of a knife.

Min, if you loved someone, would you tell them? I know you tell your friends and family but you’re more reserved with it. You like to say it in other ways. But what if you were in love with someone? Desperately. Would you tell them? Maybe it’s hard for you to imagine being on the other end of all the confession letters you’ve received. How about if that person was your best friend? Would you tell her? I know this is sort of out of the blue but I guess I just need your help. It’s funny cuz you’re the only one I can talk to about this. But you’re also the one I’m in love with. So, as my best friend, could you please help me? How do I deal with these feelings? I know I shouldn’t have them and especially not burden you with them, but how could I not fall for you after all the time we’ve spent together? All the memories we’ve shared. All that chocolate and ice cream. And now this ring. How do I deal with you treating me the way you do? Treading the line between best friends and girlfriends. How do I deal with this, Minji?

I don’t know what will happen to us if I tell you. Trust me, I wish I didn’t have to be writing this, especially now that you’re debuting. But at this point I just need to get it off my chest. I need to at least try to find some closure because I can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to keep looking at you, the person I love the most in this world, the person who makes me the happiest, and feel only sadness. It really fucking hurts. Please just tell me what to do.

Though sometimes I wonder if you’ve known all along and you just didn’t know what to say. Nobody knows me better, after all. And sometimes I let myself wonder if you love me too. If everything you’ve ever done was because you do. Or if all I’ll ever be is your friend. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so grateful and so lucky to be your best friend. The one you love the most. But while you sleep silently over there as I’m writing this in the middle of the night all I can do is wonder if you love me the way I love you. I mean, the rational part of me knows you don’t. I laugh at myself every time I start to believe. But my heart just can’t let go.

I know you won’t wake up any time soon. And maybe I won’t even give this to you when you do. But maybe in another life you’ll like waking up early in the morning to drink coffee as you watch the sunrise. Maybe you’ll have a lover and you’ll hold them close. Maybe in another life that lover could be me.

As your thumbs run dry and your eyes wet your cheeks you realize that you’re not brave enough. You can’t give this to her. That would mean stepping into the unknown. You couldn’t risk losing her. Not when she was already being slowly pulled away by her responsibilities. No. You liked it as it was. There was comfort in the familiarity of the pain. So you step back into bed with her. Back into the emotional prison you called home. And there sleep finally takes you. But as usual there was no peace to be found in it. You dream of her.

She’s giggling.

“You look like my girlfriend.”

“Really?”

“Actually, my future wife.”

“What’s she like?”

“Mmm, she’s just the sweetest, softest, cutest girl I’ve ever met.”

“Damn it,” you whisper, chuckling a little.

“Why? Are you jealous?”

You laugh again. “Yes. Yes I am.”

“Thought so. I think everyone’s jealous of her.”

“I bet she’s a little intimidated dating a huge star like you.”

This time she lets out a small chuckle. “She does get a little insecure sometimes. She thinks I’ll leave her because I’ll get too busy with my job. It’s cute. Because I wouldn’t let anything get in the way of us.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

You start tearing up. Sensing that, she keeps going.

“She’s scared of getting hurt. But how could I ever hurt such a beautiful soul? She deserves the world. And I’m gonna give her that.”

“Wow, you really seem to like her,” you say through bouts of sniffles.

“I love her with all my heart. She’s my entire world. I’d do anything for her.”

You wake up to find those tears in your eyes again. You realize that the voice you thought was Minji’s was just a reflection of your own. She was indeed the sweetest, softest, cutest, and most beautiful girl you’d ever met. You’d give her the whole world if you could. But indeed you were jealous, too. Of whoever would be able to call her theirs in the future. Because though in your dreams she looked like your girlfriend, you know, looking over at her in the dark and seeing her impossibly close to you, she wasn’t any closer to being yours.

There was nothing between you in more ways than one.

You try to find refuge in your phone. To do anything to put those thoughts to bed. Sensing your restlessness she wakes up. She looks at you and smiles. It was too dim for her to see you’d been crying, so she snuggles up to you before closing her eyes again. Within a few minutes she’s back asleep and you’re left alone under the light of your phone with only the voices in your head to keep you company. No amount of mindless scrolling could silence them. There was nowhere on the internet you could hide. No album in your gallery was safe. All you could hear was her name. All you could see was her face. You turn off your phone and put it away, realizing the futility.

There was nothing you could do.

And just like that you’re alone in the dark. Again. She was there beside you but she really wasn’t at the same time. Because you couldn’t love her the way you wanted. You couldn’t tell her all the things you wanted to tell her. You couldn’t give her that note. Every accidental touch when you shifted in bed felt like a sin. Every breath you took of her air felt like a crime. Every heartbeat pumped blood red hot with forbidden love. So you freeze. And your mind runs free. It was too tiring to try and stop it.

How bad would it be to just wrap my arms around you now? To hold you like I’ve always wanted to.

You know you shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts. But in the dark, with nothing for your eyes to see, your imagination takes over.

“I’m so grateful to have someone like you. To have you. I love you, Mia.”

Why did you have to say that? Now what do I do with myself? You’re fast asleep without a care in the world while I have to sit here and listen to those words over and over again.

You imagine holding her hands. Feeling her soft and delicate skin against yours. Tracing the lines on her palms, the creases of her fingers, feeling the gentle tickle of her fingertips. You’d held hands before but it would be different if she were yours. You would feel that warmth that only lovers could feel.

“I love you, Mia.”

Bullshit. You love me? In what universe?

You feel anger coursing through your veins. But was is it directed at her? Was she really to blame? Or was it directed at yourself? For falling in love with your best friend. That anger channels itself through your arms as you imagine wrapping them around her. Her body against yours. Feeling her chest expand for a breath only to hear that breath in your ear as she exhales. Hearts beating in tandem. You squeeze a little too hard out of love. And desperation. You’d hugged many times before but it would be different if she were yours. You would feel that warmth that only lovers could feel.

Well, I love you, too, Min. And I wish you knew how much this hurts.

As your anger and pain reach a climax you let go of all inhibitions. You close your eyes. Then imagine pulling her towards you. Looking at nothing but her lips. Inch by inch, drawing closer, until there’s nothing, no space, no air between you. As you kiss her you feel her hands touching your waist, burning you like hot coals. You hear her struggling to breathe through her nose, the soft whines that escape her like the song of a siren, calling you to throw yourself overboard.

And so you do. You imagine her taste. And she tastes sweet. Like the ice cream you had when she bought you your rings. Or the watermelon you shared at the beach. Or the chocolate she’d always get for you on the way home. Or like nothing at all. Because how would you know? It wasn’t for you to find out. It would never be.

Then you drown. Her lips on yours seals a fate that would never be destined for you. It was a kiss of death. And just like that you had nothing left as you allow your last sliver of hope to die.

#minji x reader #minji #minji new jeans #kim minji x reader #newjeans x reader

30 notes · View notes

beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year

Text

Remember You Even When I Don't (9)

Words: 5.5K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, suggestive themes, smut

Notes: Thank you to everyone who continues to like, comment, and reblog! They are so unbelievably appreciated.

---------

You find out a few days after your hospital trip that an article you wrote before his accident is being nominated for an award. He doesn’t care if he didn’t understand a word of what it said or recognize any of the names cited in it; he’s so damn proud of you.

He tells you that you should celebrate. Go out with all of your friends and have a proper party in your honor, but you shake your head at his suggestion.

“I just want to celebrate with you.”

He’s not a great cook, and grilled cheese doesn’t seem celebratory enough, so he orders the two of you Thai food that’s a touch too spicy for him and that you eat like it’s nothing, and you pair it with a few cans of your favorite sour beer that you keep stocked. When the plastic containers are cleared away, he pops a bottle of Prosecco that he grabbed from your wine fridge. You grin at him so hard that he feels like he’s missing out on an inside joke, but can’t figure out what it is. You giggle when he asks, holding out your glass for him to pour instead of giving him an answer. He doesn’t pay attention, too busy staring into your eyes, so he startles when the glass almost immediately bubbles over. Your giggling turns into full fledged laughter.

“I knew that would happen,” you smirk. You swipe some of the overflowed liquid off the glass and bring your finger to your lips. Bradley is entranced, watching you lick it away. He knows he’s staring, and you raise an eyebrow at him as you hold your glass up. Your smirk is making him dizzy.

He raises his own glass, clinking it against yours lightly, “Cheers to you, Sweetheart.”

“Cheers,” you murmur, eyes locked on his as you take a sip.

The two of you settle onto the couch, the bottle of Prosecco on the coffee table in front of you. Your socked feet nudge against his thigh as you sit facing him, and he only hesitates for a moment before he lets his hand comfortably cover your ankle, his thumb ghosting up and down the joint as the two of you lose yourselves in conversation. He asks you about work and the article you had written; he was interested in the material, sure, but he also knew how passionate you were about what you did and that you could ramble about it when you wanted to, and he loved listening to you talk.

You make it through the first bottle easily, and he opens the second one in much the same fashion as he did the first. He enjoys watching the way your face flushes and the way you giggle more as the champagne hits your system. He finds himself scooting closer to you as it hits him, too. Your legs are draped over his lap at this point and while one arm rests on the back of the couch behind him, the other is laying across your legs above your knees. Your black leggings are soft against the palm of his hand, and he finds a loose thread at the outer seam of your thigh to pick at.

“Do you miss it?” he asks, “working full time?”

“Sometimes,” you admit with a shrug. You were only doing a few hours a week now, writing or offering commentary when it was asked of you. He knew that you were asked to be part of a panel covering the election earlier, but that you had declined, knowing it would put you in DC for a few days and unwilling to leave him, despite how great of an opportunity it was.

“You can start back anytime, Pumpkin. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“You aren’t,” you promise, and your smile tells him you mean it. “I like spending time with you like this. Unless you’re getting sick of me already? I’ll make some calls tomorrow and see if they need me in Washington if that’s the case.”

Your voice has taken on that familiar teasing tone that he loved so much and he laughs, shaking his head.

“I don’t think it’s possible to be sick of you. I’d miss you too much if you weren’t here,” he teases back, though his words were true.

“I bet you would.”

“I would! Who else would cook me dinner or drive me around and keep me entertained?”

You throw your head back as you laugh, and his smirk turns into a tipsy grin at the vision you create. It still shocks him, this effect you have on him.

“That’s all I’m good for, huh?”

“You’re good for a lot of things,” he promises, and though his voice still has that little bit of a teasing lilt to it, neither of you can deny how serious he sounds, either.

You stare at him for a long moment, your bottom lip drawn between your teeth in a way that makes his heart beat faster. Your cheeks are flushed so prettily, your eyes wide and bright. You look like you’re calculating something and he patiently waits you out.

“I’m so glad we’re here,” you eventually whisper, and the quirk of his eyebrow asks the question he doesn’t verbally. “Things could have ended differently.”

“Pumpkin..”

“They could have.” He knows you’re right, but that doesn’t mean he likes to hear it. You cup his cheek and your soft hand against his scruff is the best kind of juxtaposition. He turns his head just the slightest bit, pressing a kiss against your palm. Your lips part slightly at the action. “But instead, you’re right here with me, and things may not be the same, but…they’re getting there. I don’t have to miss you when you’re right in front of me anymore, not completely, at least.”

“What do you mean, completely?”

Your eyes widen briefly, like you just embarrassed yourself with your own words. The heat that takes over your face is different from the flush you had from the champagne. It draws him in closer, his hand spreading out on your outer thigh. Your hand is still on his face and your eyes are growing darker, but you bite your lip and shake your head.

“It’s nothing.”

“Pumpkin.” Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and you shiver, then, and Bradley suddenly has an idea of what it was you were thinking. You may not have to miss him emotionally, for the most part, but you’re still missing him in other ways. His mind flashes back to the photos he found in his phone. And maybe it’s the champagne in his system or the way you’re looking at him, or maybe just how familiar you feel to him lately, but he finds himself wanting to be bold. “Do you miss…being able to send me pictures, like you did before?”

You gasp out a sharp, surprised sound, your eyes widening more than before. He feels you tense against him and for a moment he questions whether that was the right thing to say.

“I found them,” he tells you before you could ask, and his hand has started slowly trailing up and down on your thigh as it lays in his lap. “When I was going through my phone last week. I hadn’t meant to but I was reading our messages and then saw a picture you had sent me and remembered that there were more. Maybe I shouldn’t have looked at them.”

But you’re already shaking your head, murmuring that it was okay.

“Did you…did you like them?” you stutter, and your voice is smaller, more insecure than Bradley had ever heard, and he didn’t like that tone - he never wanted you to feel anything but confident with him.

He hooks a finger under your chin, raising your eyes so that they’ll meet him again from where they had fallen in your sudden display of shyness. “I did,” he promises, and your lips part again.“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Pumpkin.”

Your breathing intermingles as he leans forward, and he can taste the Prosecco on your lips when he kisses you.

You pull away after only a moment and Bradley chases after you. You duck your head, and his kiss lands on your burning cheek instead. You won’t meet his eyes.

“Hey,” he murmurs, and you shake your head. “Pumpkin?”

“I’m a little embarrassed,” you admit, and it seems unimaginable to him, knowing how comfortable you usually are in your body, especially when it comes to him. But then he realizes that while he may know that, you don’t know that he knows that, because this is something he’s kept to himself since that very first morning waking up beside you after weeks without it and the shower it forced him into afterward.

He takes a deep breath and moves his hand higher on your leg. Your leggings are pulled tight around your butt, but he squeezes lightly and your eyelashes flutter as you draw your lip between your teeth again.

“I don’t think you were embarrassed when you took them.”

Your eyes open just the slightest bit, and he swallows thickly before continuing.

“I don’t think you were embarrassed when you went in our closet and got my uniform hat out as soon as I left for work that morning, and how you undressed yourself and put it on for me to tease me, knowing I had a hop that day that would get my adrenaline running. I don’t think you were embarrassed when I came home that night, and I found you on our bed, touching yourself while you were waiting for me. Or how that hat stayed on the whole time and I didn't take it off until you were almost asleep on my chest afterwards.”

Your breathing quickens as he speaks. The whimper you let out when his words clicked in your head sent a shot of heat straight through him; not all of those things were mentioned in your text thread or documented in that scandalous little secret album he had made of you. Which means it was something he remembered about you - about the two of you, together.

You’re the one who kisses him, this time, and he’s immediately opening his mouth for you. As your tongues tangle together, he grabs your ass a little bit firmer and before he realizes what he’s doing, you’re straddling him there on the couch. You hover above him at first, but he shakes his head into the kiss and pulls you flush down on him. You moan into each other’s mouths and Bradley kisses you harder.

Hands wander and tongues explore and Bradley thinks this may be what heaven feels like.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers into your skin, his lips trailing up and down your neck as you heave for air; your chest presses against his with every exhale. “I don’t say it enough.”

“You always made me feel beautiful, baby. Every day.”

He doesn’t like that word - made. Because that implied he didn’t now, at least not in the same ways, and all he wants is to love you and cherish you and make you feel wanted, because he does and you are.

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. They’re hooded. Dark. Full of a desire that’s still guarded even if you’re trying to hide the fact.

“I’ll tell you everyday from now on. I’ll make sure you know.”

He cuts off your response with another kiss, catching your moan in his mouth. His hands trail back down over your body, feeling your curves in the most delicious of ways, to settle back on your full behind. He squeezes harder this time and his hips buck up at the same time you grind down. He knows that you can feel how hard he is; he can’t bring himself to be ashamed. He repeats the action and when he feels you tug on his hair, he rips his mouth away from yours to let out a long, drawn out sound.

“Fuck,” he moans, and you pull on the strands again. “I like that.”

“I know,” you hum before Bradley connects your lips again. He keeps a solid grip on you and uses the momentum of the moment to his advantage, twisting the two of you so that he can lay you down on the couch cushions with him bracketed between your legs without ever losing contact with you. Your heels dig into his lower back as you arch into him.

He loses track of how long he holds you down and kisses you; all the time in the world would never be enough for him.

He angles himself up just the slightest bit so he can fit one of his hands between the two of you. He’s desperate to feel you against his fingers. But it’s when he’s slipping past the waistband of your thin pants that you grip his wrist.

“Wait,” you pant. Bradley pauses immediately, his chest heaving. “Wait, wait.”

“Pumpkin?”

“We should stop,” you insist, nodding your head when he shakes his at you. He knows that even if the words are coming from your mouth, you’re fighting them.

“Why?”

“Because,” you say, “I want you so much, baby.”

“Then I don’t understand why we’re stopping. I want you too. I want you so much.” He places a few featherlight kisses against your cheeks and forehead. To his surprise, tears well in your eyes at the action. “Sweetheart?”

“That’s why we have to stop,” you croak. You push against him again, and this time, Bradley moves so that you can slip out from underneath him. He lays on his side on the couch, partially propped up by one arm as you stand in front of him.

“I don’t understand,” he mutters again, feeling just a little bit hopeless, and he watches as you fight to catch your breath. You’re twisting your ring again, and as was common recently, he feels the lack of one on his own finger.

“You said-we said we wanted to go slow, remember? That we would wait…wait until things were how they used to be.”

Bradley sits up, then, eyeing you carefully. He goes over your words in his head, wondering what it was you meant. He thought things had been getting better. From what he remembers, how the two of you have been acting with one another and how he feels is how things used to be. He licks his lips as he considers how to respond. He can still taste the coconut of your chapstick.

“Are they not…how they used to be?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Your eyes are wide and he believes you. You’re fighting with yourself right now, an inner turmoil that is manifesting itself in the way you twist your ring and run your hand through your ruffled hair. “I know I can’t have it exactly the same. And I’m okay with that, really! But I-I don’t want to do this if we aren’t on the same page, okay? I won’t be something that you regret. I don’t…I wouldn’t be able to handle that.”

There’s something you’re not saying. Something you’re scared to say, and Bradley knows that whatever it is is because you don’t want to make him feel bad.

It clicks, then, that he hasn’t been the only one holding back. He had been fighting himself, trying to be considerate of your feelings and not overwhelm you with something he didn’t understand yet, all the while you had been doing the very same as you fought yourself to protect him from how you feel. You hadn’t asked for another I love you since that night on the porch, not wanting to hear it if he didn’t know he meant it. You really didn’t know how he felt now, because he had been too scared to share it with you. He can’t believe he hasn’t put together how much the both of you need that until this moment. You had made yourself vulnerable for him that time, and he needed to do the same with you now.

Bradley stands from the couch, calling your name softly. You stop your pacing, your gaze still as dark and hooded and worried as it was a moment ago. You chew on your bottom lip as you look at him. He grabs your left hand, pulling you closer to him, and takes your place in rubbing his finger over the ring he had placed there 3 years ago. Your breath catches, and it doesn’t escape him that this is the first time he’s intentionally touched the jewelry.

He thought he’d be nervous at this moment. In all the times he thought about it, it shook him to the core so vividly that he kept it to himself. But he didn’t feel any of the anticipated butterflies in his stomach, or a whirling in his head. Instead he feels completely at ease - calmer than he has been since he woke up in that hospital bed almost two months ago.

He doesn’t remember everything, but he remembers enough to know not only you, but how he feels about you.

He knows you prefer iced coffee all year round regardless of the temperature outside. He knows that you keep chapstick in almost every room, and that even if you don’t admit it, sometimes you wish you had a better relationship with your parents. He knows that building this home with you was the first time he ever touched his mothers life insurance policy, because he knew that’s what she would want and it made him feel like she was a part of this experience, too. You preferred putting up Christmas decorations the day after Halloween and you miss the snow that came with living in the northeast. You watch way too much true crime to the point you sometimes make yourself a little paranoid when the lights are off, but he always enjoyed holding you a little closer when you felt that way. He knows that you make him smile and feel things he had never known before. You protect him and you love him and he wants to be with you, always, and would do anything for you. And he thinks he knew those things even before he knew you, both times around.

“I love you.”

He sees your lips part, and your eyes immediately fill with tears again. He hates making you cry but he knows, he knows these are good tears, and so long overdue.

“You do?” You ask, voice trembling with emotion. Bradley nods, feeling a lump forming in his throat. With the hand not holding yours, he pushes some of your hair out of your face, letting his fingers trail over the smooth skin.

“I’ll always love you, Pumpkin. I promised you that, remember?”

You let out a sob, then, nodding your head rapidly and squeezing his hand. “I do. Do you?”

He hums in response, and a small smile quirks at his lips. “Loving you was the easiest thing I’ll ever remember, baby. I don’t think it’s something that I ever really forgot.”

You kiss him then and it’s desperate in a way that it hasn’t been up until this point. He bends his knees and you jump to wrap your legs around his waist and it feels so good, holding you closely like this. There was a certain kind of thrill knowing that he was the only thing keeping you upright and that you trusted him so fully to not let you fall. Your arms are tight around his neck. He wants you, maybe more than anything he’s ever wanted before.

It’s a fumble of kisses and moans as he carries you up the stairs. He trips near the top, and you let out almost giddy laughter when he slams you back into the wall to avoid an uncomfortable trip back down to the first floor.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he pants, kissing you again, pulling away only to press his lips to your cheeks and to nip at your jaw. The wall gives him leverage and he pushes his hips hard into yours; he swears he can almost feel how wet and warm you are through both of your clothing already. He’s harder than he can ever remember being and the breathy little moan you let out makes him throb.

“Take me to bed,” you accompany the request with a tug of the curls on the back of his head and he crashes his lips back to yours before you can even get another word in.

He pulls you away from the wall and finishes the climb. Your tongue tangles with his the whole way to your room and it’s not until he sets you down at the foot of the bed that he pulls away. It’s silent for a moment, the only sound is your combined heavy breathing as you stare at one another.

“Are you alright?” you ask softly, and Bradley thinks he could cry, all of a sudden. He’s not sure what he did to deserve someone who cares about him the way you so effortlessly and willingly do.

“I’m perfect,” he says in response. A beat passes and he sees you slowly reaching for the hem of your shirt, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you.

“Let me,” he rasps. Slowly, he slides his hands under the fabric, feeling the skin soft and burning under his fingertips. You lift your arms above your head and he takes the hint without a question. The material comes off easily, but he doesn’t linger; he wants to see all of you.

The wide surface of his hands rest against the soft skin of your waistline, his thumbs briefly caressing the skin just under your bra, before he lets them trail down to your hips. Without a word, he sinks down to his knees in front of you. He looks up at you, meeting your eyes, and though no question really needs to be asked at this point, you answer him anyway with a small nod. He leans forward and presses a featherlight kiss against your stomach. Slowly, he peels the stretchy material down your legs. It pools at your feet and he looks up at you again, your eyes blown dark and wide with desire and love.

“I love you,” he says again, followed by another kiss to your panty line. Lingering, gentle. His eyes flutter briefly and he lets himself breathe you in for a moment before continuing on the mission he set out to do.

He tugs the pretty pink cotton down your legs. His lips follow, kissing first your hip bone and then the top of your thighs, and your fingertips dig into his shoulders that you’re holding onto for purchase as you lift each leg to let him remove the material completely.

He rises slowly, and you don’t hesitate to thread your fingers through his hair again and tug his lips to yours as he does. His hands glide up your spine, feeling each ridge as he goes, and he loves the way you shiver for him. He only fumbles with the clasp of your black bra for a moment before he feels it give. He takes a small step back, admiring the way it looks as it falls down your shoulders. He swallows thickly as he tugs it gently, giving it that last little bit of momentum to separate from your body and fall to the ground between you.

You don’t move to cover yourself, completely bare before him, and he marvels at the work of art that you create. You’re beautiful, astonishingly so, and he can’t believe that you’re his; he can’t believe that you chose him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes out. With those words, he learns that you flush all over.

He tugs at his own shirt, quickly ridding himself of that and the pants he had been wearing, and when he’s down to just his boxer briefs, he pulls you against him again, already missing the feel of your lips on his. He picks you up once more, only to lay you down on the soft blanket covering your bed. He climbs on top of you, and seeing you like this, spread out underneath him, is nearly his undoing.

“I love you,” he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. Then to your nose, brief and chaste, before continuing down, ghosting of touches to your chin and your neck. His lips make it to a freckle on your clavicle, and it’s warmer, open and wet, and you arch up into him with a gasp. When he circles your nipple with his tongue, you moan for him.

“Bradley.”

But he’s not done yet, wants to taste you all over. A hunger grows in him the closer he gets, and you must know what he’s intending because you let the thighs you had been rubbing together fall open before him. He can see how wet you are, how you glisten against the small smattering of hair you have there. His mouth waters as your scent hits him, musky and floral and something that is just you, and he doesn’t hesitate as he flattens his tongue against your folds. You taste devine. He groans against you as he does it again, licking all the way up before he wraps his lips around your clit.

“Bradley, oh god.”

Blindly, he grabs your hands from where they’re clenching the comforter. He threads his fingers with yours and you squeeze tight. He feels the pressure of your rings.

You’re whining underneath him as he continues lapping at your core and he thinks he could come just from the sounds you’re making and the taste of you. He pushes his tongue inside of you and he can’t help but look up at you from his position. Your head is thrown back, your lip between your teeth, and oh, no, that won’t do.

“I want to hear you,” he pulls away to say, diving back in once he sees you release your lip. As he closes around your sensitive nub again, he’s rewarded with a loud gasp, followed by a keen of his name.

Yes, he thinks, that’s more like you.

Your orgasm hits you faster than he anticipated just a few moments later. Your hips grind up into his face as he sucks furiously at your clit and god damn, he can’t believe he could have ever forgotten you.

He’s panting when he pulls away, licking his lips to chase the taste of you. He rests his cheek on your thigh, watching as you come down. Your chest heaves and your whole body seems to tremble in the aftershocks of it, and when you open your eyes and look down at him, he’s a little bit startled to see them glassy with tears.

“Pum-”

“Come here,” you gasp, tugging your hands loose from where they were still intertwined with his to pull him back up your body. You kiss him, desperate and wanting, and he knows you must be able to taste yourself on his tongue. He pulls away, panting from the lack of oxygen.

“You’re crying,” he notes.

“You’re real,” you return, clutching at his bare back, and he understands immediately - he had been right here, but still out of reach for you for way too long. “I love you, and I missed you so much.”

“I’m right here,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your cheek, your nose, your lips. “I’m never leaving you again.” It’s not a promise he’s guaranteed to keep, but he knows he’d do everything in his power for the rest of his life not to break it.

“Off,” you command, trying to push the green material of his briefs, the only thing still separating you, down with your feet like they had personally offended you. “Baby, please. Please, please, please.”

Seeing you desperate like this makes him dizzy and he’s quick to appease you. When he settles himself flush on top of you, you both moan at the feeling. He’s hot and heavy against your warm and wet center; Bradley doesn’t know how he’s going to last. He places a tender, chaste kiss to your lips as he lines himself up, whispering again that he loves you against your mouth.

Sliding into you feels like the first time, and he supposes in a way, it is. You feel like home and hope and everything good and he never wants to be away from you again.

It was too much. It wasn’t enough. It was everything, all at once.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “You feel so good, baby. So fucking amazing. I’m not going to last,” he pants, desperately trying to regain some control over himself. He had never felt this close this fast, but the emotions of the night mixed with how long it’s been were proving to be detrimental to his stamina. He needed this, so badly. You both did. You shake your head and assure him that it’s okay. You clench around him and his arms shake from where he’s holding himself up above you. He drops to his forearms, unable to take it.

“Move,” you gasp, and who is he as your husband to deny you anything?

Bradley slowly pulls his hips back, enjoying the drag as he goes, but relishing in how much better it feels to sink back into you. Over and over again he repeats the motion. A tremble climbs up his spine as he kisses along your jaw, nipping at you softly and soothing it with his tongue. He settles his face into the curve of your neck, panting against your skin.

His chest is pressed against yours, your nails scraping down in his back in a way that he hopes he carries with him for the next few days. Your heels press into the back of his thighs and urge him forward with every thrust, meeting him move for move. The sounds you were making were like music and with every gasp and moan of his name, he craves more.

“Let go, sweetheart,” you murmur in his ear, nudging your nose along the scruff of his beard. But he shakes his head, unwilling to lose himself before you did, too. He brings his hand down to your center, circling gently at first before rapidly rubbing at your clit with his fingers to push you closer to that edge he was already precariously dangling on.

“You’re so tight,” he murmurs, delighting in the way you immediately clench down. “I want you to come for me, Pumpkin.”

“Bradley,” you whimper, clutching him closer. He knows that you’re almost there, knows it like he knows how much he loves you and how lucky he is to be married to you.

“My perfect wife,” he breathes, and that’s what finally does it.

You break with a sob, and oh. Having you come on his tongue is one thing, but feeling you come around his cock is something almost otherworldly. He knows he’ll never feel anything like it again outside of you.

He loses his rhythm as he chases his own end. You’re impossibly tight around him and he knows nothing but you at this moment. You moan his name again and his orgasm pulses at his core and sweeps through him. He releases inside of you with a shout of your name and you clutch at him as he rides it out.

It’s almost too overwhelming, everything that he’s feeling right now. You run your fingers through his hair as he tries to catch his breath, softly combing through the damp strands. He gives a few lazy after thrusts and you whimper at the oversensitivity it causes, but shake your head when he goes to pull out.

“Stay,” you murmur, voice tired in the best of ways, “stay.”

He presses his forehead against yours and your breaths mingle together. He forces his eyes to stay open, wanting to see you in the afterglow. It occurs to him, then, that this experience was entirely his own. There was no tingling in his brain or fuzziness in his line of vision that always came when a memory hit him. This was new. A refreshed start, not muddled by the confusion of what was and what is. It’s just the two of you, here, together, finding peace and pleasure and love no matter the circumstance that got you here.

“I love you,” he whispers. It must be the fifth or eighth or maybe even the twelfth time tonight, but he doesn’t care. He’s gone so long without saying it that he feels like he had to make up for lost time.

“I love you, too.”

He wants to stay in your arms forever, and for the first time since he woke up in the hospital, when he was overwhelmed with emotions he didn’t understand, he feels like maybe he can.

-----

Part Ten :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: The moment I feel like people have been waiting for! I hope you enjoyed! Just a few more parts left :)

Tag List: @roosterforme - @mak-32 - @hoyaharper - @wildxwidow - @gretagerwigsmuse - @bradshawburner - @iamaslytherin0 - @lilyevanswhore - @too-fangirl-to-fuction - @fav-fanficssss - @benhardysdrumstick - @fandomxpreferences - @acatwriteshere - @1234-angelika - @double-j - @cocoskween - @sunflowersteves - @teacupsandtopgun - @littlezee80 - @sometimesanalice - @je-suis-prest-rachel - @khaylin27 - @infamous-reindeer - @hotch-meeeeeuppppp - @sarahjoestewy-blog - @sunnysidesidra - @notroosterbradshaw - @yanna-banana - @inthestars-underthesun -@avengersfan25 - @wkndwlff - @zbeez-outlet - @lt-spork - @indynerdgirl - @loveforaugust - @mssleepy876b

@kassieesworld - @luckylexie - @lovemesomevesey - @mizzzpink - @books-for-summer - @a-serene-place-to-be - @deviltsunoda - @tv-fanatic18 - @memoriesat30 - @melody-death - @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog - @dabisblackprincess - @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy - @realdirectionx - @waywardhunter95 - @myownworstenemyyy - @sexualparkour - @sadpetalsstuff - @almostgenerallyalways -@alilstressyandlotdepressy - @14readwritedraw96 - @ccbb2222 - @taytaylala12 - @alittlechaotics-blog - @starkleila

@shelbycillian - @mavrellover91 - @vici111 - @merishfit - @plaper1 - @lunamooncole - @eclecticfashionbookszipper - @pariahsparadise - @bunny-nonnie - @blackwidownat2814 - @huang-the-geek - @jpgliv - @topaz125 - @bluelicious - @loveyhoneydovey - @pisupsala - @nuvoleincielo - @littlemiss-n - @olivezeppelin - @jynxmirage - @shanimallina87 - @ouralcohol - @lumpypoll - @discowitchyy - @bellaireland1981- @princessmiaelicia - @eighthwvnder - @floydflys - @smile-child-13 - @rashelruby10 - @aj-weekend - @wolfiealina - @csoutsider - @cowboybarbie - @haydensith - @itsizzythebell - @caitlin222 - @vabeachazn - @phantomxoxo - @letsgomamas - @myhealthymarvelobsession - @slippinginto-theairwaves - @winterrebel04

829 notes · View notes